The Voice and the Violin
by VampPhan
Summary: Erik lives in a warehouse in San Francisco, using his talent with his voice and a violin to get by. But then he finds he has another talent, which is his clever scheming to get the woman he desires...EC/RC, Modern day. COMPLETE
1. The Cemetery

**Author's Note: I know some of you will hate me for doing this, but I deleted 'Lux'. I hated it. I hated updating it, I hated seeing typos everywhere and grammer mistakes, I hated the out-of-character-ness, I hated the plot, and generally DESPISED IT WITH AN UTMOST LOATHING. So, I'm rewriting it. There will be many differences. If you didn't see the first one, well, you're lucky. Just for reference--Setting: San Francisco. Time: Modern. Version: Mostly Gerik, but with a few twists here and there. For now, read on.**

**Chapter One**

One, lonely soul was within the black iron gates of Beaumonte Cemetery. One woman kneeling at a grave, with a monument of an angel standing over it. One daughter mourning for a long-dead father...

Christine Daae looked around her and noticed her solitude and was relieved. Today, on her father's birthday, she wanted to give him something she knew he would be able to recieve from beyond his death: a song. She used to love to sing---it was nearly her life. But since Gustave Daae's death due to a heart attack six years prior, she had kept silent. She never even hummed. Otherwise she recovered quite well with faith that Mr. Daae was now at peace, but had always thought her song was a gift only to him, and would only be shared with him. Now he would hear her for the first time in many years.

Christine pulled a piece of sheet music from a folder she had brought with her. She dared not even practice the song she had composed especially for her father.

_Dad would say he'd love it even if I sound like a toad..., _she thought, smiling before she cleared her throat and slowly began:

_You were once my one companion, _

_you were all that mattered._

_You were once a friend and father..._

_then my world was shattered._

She looked up from the cold earth to the angel monument, getting a little more confident.

_Wishing you were somehow here again..._

_wishing you were somehow near._

_Sometimes it seemed, _

_if I just dreamed_

_Somehow you would be here..._

_Wishing I could hear your voice again,_

_Knowing that I never would._

_Dreaming of you won't help me to do_

_all that you dreamed I could..._

Gazing at the other graves with a melancholy stare, she continued with a lower, softer voice.

_Passing bells and sculpted angels, _

_cold and monumental..._

_Seem for you the wrong companions_

_you were warm and gentle..._

Christine paused to stand and wipe away the tears that threatened to leak from her dark eyes. Vivid images of the happy times with her father flashed through her mind faster than she could blink. Her voice grew even louder and more emotional until it felt like she had floated away from the earth, now singing directly to a smiling Gustave.

_Too many years fighting back tears_

_Why can't the past just die?_

_Wishing you were somehow here again_

_Knowing we must say goodbye..._

_Try to forgive! Teach me to live,_

_Give me the strength to try!_

_No more memories, no more silent tears_

_No more gazing across the wasted years..._

_Help me say goodbye...._

_Help me say...good...bye...._

She knelt back down before the monument and placed a single white rose on the headstone, then sighed.

"I love you, Dad.", she whispered, turning away and slowly disappearing in the maze of graves. But she had been mistaken--Mr. Daae was not the only one who had been listening...

As soon as she had left the cemetery, a young man emerged from behind a nearby mauloseum, mouth open in awe. His worn black shoes crunched in the leaves as he slowly walked out of the shadows into the sunlight. He wore torn jeans and a plain black shirt that hung to his lean frame like it would on a hanger. His pale hands were hidden in the pockets of his black coat, and over his slightly shaggy, ebony hair was a dark felt hat, pulled down as low as possible. Frankly the only thing he wore that wasn't black was an odd half of a mask, almost glaring white against all the dark colours. His right eye was pale blue, and his left was a sea-green. They flickered sadly over the white rose, then raised to the graveyard's exit. He gave the rose a last glance before heading towards the gates.

_Fortunate for you that you did not bring your violin out today, Erik..._, he thought to himself, loping across the street and down sidewalks. _You would have been extremely tempted to play along with that lovely girl's voice...what a glorious sound that would be combined...but it would be frightening for her, however._

An old, red brick warehouse came into view. Half of the windows on the five stories were broken, with black shreds of tarps flying in the breeze. The visible part of Erik's face lit up when he saw the abandoned building, and he ran faster to reach it. Once he stood in front of the building, he took a break to catch his breath, searching his pockets for something. He jammed a silver key into the keyhole of the front door, hastily turned it, and rushed out of the cold.

The first floor of the building was a complete wreck, with tarps and broken glass strewn across the dusty, concrete floor. Even though it was broad daylight outside, it was rather gloomy within. Erik made a beeline for the spiral staircase dead ahead of him. Thus he began his five story trek. THe next two floors were full of rubbish, but the fourth was considerably clean. He continued to climb ever higher until he reached the fifth floor: his home.

Erik slowly took in everything with his mismatched gaze. Books were piled up almost to the ceiling, papers strewn across a desk that had been abandoned with the building itself...dusty windows wide open to flood the room with a rare, glorious light...he loved this place. A cheap air mattress lay in a corner with a messy pile of blankets atop it, an old pillow at the head. And there, resting against the wall was the item that had given him everything: his violin.

If the instrument had an expression, it would be one of eager welcome. The violin's mohogany neck glinted in the yellow light, it's bow placed beside it, a thin little companion. Erik smiled as he strode across the room and promptly collapsed on the air mattress. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, remembering the girl--well, woman was a better word--who sang so ethereally at the cemetery. He had just been walking through the graveyard in boredom, reading the headstones with morbid curiosity when an angel's voice soared throught the dreary atmosphere. Sure she had obviously not used the instrument in a rather long time, but just her natural voice stunned him. He would have been equally shocked if she had been merely speaking to him. Through her song, he had become more entranced but at the same time, sympathetic. How he wanted to follow her, to stop her and ask her meekly to sing again, or at least speak to him, filling his ears with that beautiful sound...he would be happy just looking at her lovely pale face. She'd be a wonderful inspiration for a song...

Erik sat up and reached for his violin, gently grasping it and adjusting it on his shoulder, positioning the bow. He closed his eyes and summoned every detail, every sound, every emotion he could recall from that angelic stranger. And slowly, experimentally, he began to play.

An hour later, he had it on paper. The notes were gracefully drawn on the printed staff, making waves of music, and Erik's name was signed at the bottom. Seeing as no one ever read his compositions, he never understood why he did that, but he just did. He just learned his songs by heart, went to a crowded area in the city, and played and sang until his whole body was sore and his pockets were full of cash.

He got up again and opened up a paper bag lying on his desk and pulled out a five dollar bill and a few ones.

_That should be enough for lunch...now where oh where shall I eat today?_

**AN: I'm a lot more satisfied with this than I was with my other story. I hope you are too. Let me know!**


	2. Everyday Life

**AN: I'm glad to see that people have liked this story thus far. Here is more for you.**

**Chapter Two**

"Stand up straighter! Like this, Sarah. See?"

Christine and her best friend, Meg Giry both taught ballet at a girls dancing academy near the San Franscisco bay. They had taken ballet when they were younger, instructed mostly by Meg's mother, and they began teaching the art in college.

"Like this, Ms. Daae?", a young girl asked, poised with her hands above her head, a hopeful look on her face.

"Now you've got it.", Christine smiled. Meg was helping a girl work on her balance and Mrs. Giry was there as well, sitting in a fold-out chair. Sometimes the woman would come to watch how her two daughters were doing (she considered Christine a daughter when Gustave died and she had taken care of his child.) If they were having trouble, occasionally the retired, strict instructor would take charge. Not demonstrating anything of couse, but if it was discipline they were worried about...beware. Mrs. Giry once danced at the Metropolitan Opera, as well as other sites before Meg was born, and was proud of it too. Her teachers had always been perfectionists, and they were her idols in her younger years.

"Alright girls, that's all for today. Your parents should be here to pick you up soon.", Meg announced, the students beginning to chatter. The blonde beamed and walked over to Christine cheerfully. "Long day, eh?", she asked. Christine yawned, taking a sip of water and leaning on the wall.

"Tell me about it...", she sighed, closing the bottle cap. As soon as all the girls had left, Mrs. Giry, Meg, and Christine locked up and climbed into Meg's bright red Jeep. She hopped into the driver's seat and put on some large sunglasses. Christine sat in the passenger seat, and Mrs. Giry was in the back.

"So, have you dumped Daniel yet?", Christine asked Meg when the car was in motion. Meg scoffed.

"Yep. Monday, in fact. He was such a pompous jerk. I couldn't stand to even speak to him for another minute without slapping him.", she muttered, but then her face lit up again. "But I met someone new..."

"You change your boyfriends everytime you change your socks. You're just setting yourself up for heartbreak.", the brunette reminded her.

"But Charlie is different..."

"That's what you said about the last five guys you dated."

"It's true. None of them are exactly alike...", Meg laughed, then changed the subject. "Eleven more days until we're closed for the summer.."

"No work, no paycheck, Meghan.", Mrs. Giry piped up from the backseat, folding her spindly hands.

"I have enough money to last me the summer, Mother.", the blonde retorted, pulling up in front of an old apartment complex. Christine climbed out of the car, grabbing her purse, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She waved to her friend and happily entered the building. A child was plonking away at a toy piano on the first floor, a dog barking on the next level. An Italian woman was screaming at her husband next door to Christine's apartment.

_Honestly, Carlotta, do you ever shut up?_, thought Christine bitterly as she rushed into her living room. Before the door was fully open, a booming series of barks echoed from the kitchen, where a plastic gate blocked the threshold. Christine smiled at her beloved pet, who was sitting on the newspaper covered tile, panting. The dog was a Siberian husky/ German Shepherd mix, and was rather long-haired and almost the size of a St. Bernard.

"Were you lonely, Thunder?", the brunette laughed, reaching over the gate and running her fingers through the black fur on Thunder's head. She gave him a last pat before going to her bedroom to change into her "dog walking clothes". This consisted of blue shorts, an old grey t-shirt, and white tennis shoes. Compared to yesterday's unusual chill, today was hot. Tying her curly brown hair back, Christine checked the thermometer. Seventy-two degrees--her clothes should be warm enough .

"Okay, okay, Thunder, we're going..."

////////////

_Seriously, Mr., quit staring at the mask and just take my order already!_

The cashier apparantly read Erik's thoughts, or at least the death-glare he was giving him, and told the customer his total.

"Thank you.", Erik curtly said, grabbing the bag and his drink from the stand and made his way through the Golden Gate Park to an empty bench. Once he was comfortable, he dug into his warm pizza contentedly. Of all the manmade lakes in the park, he loved Middle Lake the best. There weren't that many so-called "wild" geese pestering him for food, nor people who would be walking but stop and stare once the spotted him. Instead, there were mostly old couples who prefered not knowing to finding out, and mallards who were spooked by humans, even with food. Erik hadn't brought his violin today--he had enough money, and he didn't know of anything he wanted to buy anyway. Not to mention he really didn't feel like performing today. Once he was finished with his lunch, he headed back home, all the while wondering if he would ever publically play that song he had written for a stranger.

When he was on level five of the warehouse, he didn't stop. He climbed up a separate staircase to the vast expamse of the roof. This was not the first time he traveled up there--the first time, he felt sick. Now, the place was an escape, a place to think. Erik ventured to the border and sat down, his feet hanging off the edge. He liked scaring himself like that, even though he knew he wouldn't fall unless he bent over too far, or someone pushed him.

He gazed about his surroundings. The sky was overwhelmingly large, and it made his head hurt to look at it, so he looked down instead. People the size of ants drove about in tiny cars on tiny roads, drinky tiny expressos and reading tiny newspapers. It was amazing how they all thought they were so important, when really, they each were a speck of color in some grand design, used to amuse some higher being. Of course, Erik didn't believe in God nor any other religion--why should he? If there WAS a God, He was a very cruel one indeed, and the surest way of disappointing Him would be to not believe in Him. That was Erik's logic, anyway.

He observed each speck of life, perched on the edge of his building like the gargoyle he was, eyes grazing across the city. He sighed and stood up after growing bored with watching normal people go about their normal lives....sometimes he'd give anything to be like them....

Erik violently shook that thought away and rationalized with himself.

_No, no, NO. It is NOT better being ordinary, because being ordinary means being one of THEM. You'd be just like THEM, ignorant, stupid, judging, pomous FOOLS just like them! If someone came across you who looked like you do now, and you were an ordinary person, you would kick that poor soul or make fun of them, like they did to you! No, no matter how bad being unloved for something you can't help is, it is not as bad as being THAT. You may be monstrous, but you are not as monstrous as THEM! Though they are beautiful, or at least tolerable to look at, they are all gruesome beasts on the inside, and the only thing they are good for is milking them of their money._

Erik crawled back inside to the safety of the fifth floor and curled up on his makeshift bed.

_But what about __her__? Could she be a monster too?,_a meek voice asked quietly.

_YES! All members of the human race are barbarians, beasts set on destroying anything and anyone different from them! She is but the worst type, the tempting ones, the beautiful ones, like a siren luring a sailor to his death with her song...no Erik, you must resist...she's not the angel you think she is...if you do anything, such as get near her, she will ruin your life! Stay away from her...stay away if you want to live in peace._

The meek voice from before was silenced and Erik found himself hating that woman.

_How dare she? How dare she make me feel like people can actually be good? How dare she awaken such emotions, driving me to even dedicate a SONG for her? I must get rid of that manuscript somehow if I ever have hope of forgetting her..._

Almost growling in frustration, Erik stormed over to where his music scores lay in a disarray on his desk. He snatched up the offending piece and jerked open a window, which squeaked in protest. He flung the papers out into the summer air and slammed shut the window again, now satisfied with himself. Now, if his brain would simply cooperate, he would proceed to forget all about that woman.

**AN: Please review! They really make my day! Any suggestions? I'd appreciate them!**


	3. A Date

**Chapter Three**

"Come ON, Thunder!"

Christine was trying in vain to move Thunder away from an SUV where a terrier was yapping it's tiny head off in the front seat. Finally, she managed to jerk the chain leash hard enough for Thunder to reluctantly start moving through the park again, behaving like a normal canine for about three seconds until he started barking and snapping at the air.

"What is it now--what on earth...?", Christine trailed off, watching the pages that fluttered seemingly from nowhere to the ground. The big dog circled the papers, sniffing them suspiciously when his mistress picked them up. It was sheet music, and the pages were slightly torn and wrinkled. The brunette curiously examinied them before folding them and stashing them in her pocket, making a mental note to play it out on her keyboard later. Tightening her ponytail, she looked down at her pet and started jogging again.

////////

"No, that's not it is it? Oh, it IS an F...hm...it sounds out of place, but okay...."

Christine was sitting at her electric piano, reading and playing out the piece that had literally fallen from the sky. So far, it was difficult and more than a little bit surprising. Now, she was trying to play out the entire song without mistakes. After a half-hour of trying in vain, she gave up and sat down to watch T.V. All through the sitcom she was watching, that melody played through her mind. For some strange reason it reminded her of...of...of herself. Equally puzzling was the name, signed in dark, scratchy handwriting in the bottom corner of the last music page: Erik. She'd never heard of him before, and considering the complexity of his music, he should be famous. Why was there no last name? Was it something he always did, like a trademark symbol of sorts?

The upbeat violin solo that was her cell's ringtone snapped her out of her thoughts and she reached for the device irritably, flipping it open.

"Hello?"

"_Hey sweetheart! How're you doing?"_

"Pretty good. You?"

_"Oh I'm always happy when I get to hear that pretty voice of yours...you free Saturday?"_

"Uh..yeah! I think so, why?"

_"I wanted to take you on an old-school, never failing date---the movies. Just like old times."_

Christine laughed. He was so old-fashioned.

"Okay, which movie?"

_"You pick: chick-flick or horror"_

"Why those?"

_"Because you'll be hanging on to me either way, crying over sap or squealing at gore."_

"You know I don't get scared at bloody movies."

_"Oh, the remake of "Sociopath' is pretty scary, I hear."_

"Try me."

_"I take that as a 'we're watching 'Sociopath' this Saturday, right?"_

"Yes."

_"Alright! See you tomorrow night! Love you."_

"Love you too. Bye!"

_"Bye."_

_//////////////_

_Forget, forget, forget, forget, forget, forget....FORGET HER, YOU FOOL!_

Erik abruptly stopped banging his head against the wall and rubbed it. His partially twisted forehead was throbbing. He groaned and fell onto his back in exhaustion.

His breathing slowly returned to it's normal pace, as did his pulse. His eyes stared at the blank expanse of the ceiling, trying to stay open. Anytime he closed his eyes, even to blink, a vision of HER filled his brain, suffocating all thought and especially any denial. It wasn't even a foggy, vague picture, like when you're trying to remember what an old relative looked like. No, this was a stranger he saw but one time, and the image of her was as clear as a snapshot in his head. His eyes began to get warm and watery, demanding to be closed. He tried not to blink, oh he tried, but yet those lids shut anyway. For a millisecond, that face flashed in his mind. The dark brown curls, the pale skin, the prominant cheekbones, the small nose, the bloodless lips....the most intriguing feature being her eyes. People always say that is the most appealing part of their significant other's face. They also say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. As far as Erik knew, both were right. That woman's gaze was so beautiful, but it was so melancholy it almost detracted from that beauty. They were kind of large for her face, but not 'buggy'. Their shape was almond, and their color was a chocolatey brown. Erik had never known such a plain colour could be so attractive, but on her, anything was lovely. But despite all of these nice characteristics about her eyes, there was still that deep sadness lurking behind her irises. It was grieving mostly, but there was desperation and longing as well, the type that comes with only a very tragic loss of someone whom you depended on almost completely. Someone who was a father, teacher, friend, companion, guide, role model, and the very source of your emotional stability and happiness, all at once. Someone who was ripped from you, and you had to grow up suddenly and face the cruel realities of life.

_Having memories of those you loved and lost is perhaps far wose than having no loving memories at all...,_ Erik thought solemnly, sighing aloud. His dark head snapped up as he realized he was supposed to be forgetting the stranger, not pitying her!

Growling in frustration at himself, he stood up and began to pace. _I need...a distraction...something big and that is hard to stray away from, something that will not involve my life or anything like it...aha! A movie--yes, a bloody, thrilling horror film, you'll like that. Gore and murder to distract me from that accursed stranger...'Sociopath' is on tonight. I will see that. Now, shall I sneak or shall I pay?_

Erik contemplated how much cash he had and how cunning he was feeling tonight. He had more than enough money to pay, and he was feeling clumsy and pretty pathetic anyway. He strode over to his desk where his mask lay, bright in the light of the city that streamed through the many windows. He grabbed it and rather roughly put it to his face, adjusting it until it stuck to his skin on it's own. After that he donned the black fedora he almost always wore out. Though it was a warm May night, the hat helped decrease the stares at his mask by partially concealing it. At last, Erik stashed a twenty in his pocket and made his was downstairs...and downstairs...and downstairs...and downstairs...unil he reached ground floor. He locked the door to the building, throwing the key in the air then catching it as he went out into the night.

////////

"Wow-you're gorgeous."

"I'm only in a t-shirt and jeans!", Christine laughed, leaning on the doorframe. Raoul took a step closer, flashing that incredible, stunning smile of his.

"I was not talking about your clothes...", he said, looking her in the eyes, pausing before leaning in and kissing her. It wasn't too nervous, too rough, too controlling or too frantic like how many of Christine's previous boyfriends kissed her. It was real, sweet, and like any girl would want...that is if there was the same emotion on the said girl's part. She tried to put in as much response as she could, but only felt like pulling away for some strange reason. It was hard to explain. She shrugged it off and followed him downstaires to his Corvette. He opened the door for her and even started to buckle her in when she shooed him away.

"I can get it myself, thanks.", she said as gently as she could, fastening the seatbelt on her own. He didn't seem to mind, and he got in the drivers seat just as happy as before.

"You know...we've been dating for three months and I still feel luckier than someone who won the lottery for winning you.", he sighed, starting the engine. "I always thought that since we had been friends so long, you'd still only think of me as a friend..."

Christine quickly changed the subject.

"Remember how we met? We were both what was it...nine, I think, and I lost my red scarf in the Bay...you happened to be in the water and--oh you wre so funny, you were splashing about to rescue it for me!"

"It was sopping wet and had seaweed all in it but you put it back on anyway", Raoul laughed. "And then you hugged me and got even wetter...your father was so mad at first for you messing up your dress, but then he and my parents started talking and forgot all about it."

"We wre friends until you went off to your private school that fall and we drifted apart...", Christine remembered sadly.

"But we met again at that same college!", Raoul pointed out. "At that friend of yours party...what was her name..."

"Ashley Barnes. I remember her--always throwing parties until she got thrown OUT. She finally convinced me to let her dress me up and drag me to the dance floor."

"You had a rather nice dress, I must say."

Christine went red at the memory of the sparkly cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. She went even redder at the image of how Ashley had applied Christine's makeup that night.

"I looked like a hooker with raccoon eyes!"

"Well then, a very attractive hooker with raccoon eyes.", he teased her. She laughed as the Corvette pulled up into a parking space close to the cinema's entrance. Raoul lept out and opened the door on Christine's side. She stepped out and he immediately put an arm around her waist as they walked towards the movie theater.

Once they had payed for their tickets and were inside the building, Raoul dragged Christine to the concession stand.

"Come on, I know you're hungry, you haven't eaten since noon!", he urged her to pick something.

"Alright, a medium drink and small popcorn, then.", she said to the cashier, about to pull money out from her purse, but Raoul stopped her, whipping out his own wallet. Immediately, Christine began to protest.

"No, you don't have to pay for--"

"I insist. It's not even that much.", he shrugged.

She sighed in defeat and let him pay for it. They walked down the dimly lit cinema hallway, searching for their flick and glancing at others.

"Hey look, we could have seen 'Furbies: The Movie' instead!", Raoul joked, making Christine almost choke on her drink from laughing. She stifled her giggles as they both entered the room labeled 'Sociopath', and began looking for empty seats.

**AN: See, this is why I think RC CAN be adorable, just not that romantic. Nevah fear, it is an EC story. I'm sorry for the loooong update and the short chapter. **


	4. Jealousy

**AN: Alo! I know, I know, you've been absolutely dying without the update of this MARVELOUS story....yeah, I flatter myself....anyhoo, here's ze next update!**

**Chapter Something.**

Erik was slumped in a seat on the very top row of the cinema, feet rested on the chair in front of him. Everyone else was mostly in the first few rows, far away from him. He like it that way. He yawned and put his hat in the seat next to him as the commercials came to an end. In the corner of his eye, he saw a couple come up the stairs closer and closer towards him.

_Come on! Stop--sit there...or there...just please don't come up here!, _he pleaded silently, repressing a snarl when they sat directly in front of him. They weren't giants, so they didn't block his view, but they forced him to put his feet down. Plus, Erik thought one of them looked familiar...

If he had been able to afford a movie drink, and had taken a gulp at that moment, he would have spewed it all over the couple in front of him. It was HER. The girl at the cemetery, the one that he'd been thinking about nonstop for the past three days. And Erik had come to the cinema to FORGET her. Of all the places, of all the movie theaters, of all the movies she could have seen, she came to this one. The fact that she brought an irritatingly handsome boyfriend with her was not helping the problem. Bloody fantastic.

Erik glared at the other man. He had dark blonde hair, a tan face, and one of those perfect smiles that you only see on Crest-White Strip commercials. His very appearance was infuriating, but the worst part was that he was with _her. _Erik sank down in his chair glumly, but then his ears pricked when the two started whispering and quietly laughing.

"Five dollars says you'll be clinging to me at the end of the movie.", the boy bet, flashing that ideal grin of his.

"TEN dollars says you'll be clinging to_ me, _Raoul de Chagny.", the girl challenged. Her smile was a lot less annoying.

_So that's the little twerp's name...ha! Raoul de Chagny--what an awfully fake name. It sounds like the name of a hero in a badly written opera. Or a family name he got stuck with., _Erik thought, almost thinking "Haha, sucks for him", but then remembered the man's looks and whom he was with.

"Christine Daae, tsk, tsk, thinks she's so tough...", the boy mocked back at her, but obviously in a good-natured way. He was about to tease her again, but then the movie started and she shushed him.

_And her name. Finally, I know what it is. Lovely...almost as lovely as she herself._

After a few minutes, Erik lost himself in the plot of the film, forgetting all about where he was, what was happening, and even himself. He nearly forgot he even existed. Near the middle of the movie, where the two main characters were having a sickeningly romantic scene, he snapped back to reality. That boy was trying to kiss Christine, making her laugh with his antics. Finally she turned her head and allowed him a chaste smooch, before she looked back at the screen. Even though it was quick, witnessing their lips lock still hurt like hot pins sticking all over Erik's body. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to push away that image that had burned into his brain. At last, he settled down enough to watch the rest of the movie, but still his thoughts raced. _Why here? Why now? Why do I even care? Why am I suddenly so jealous of a complete stranger for kissing another complete stranger? Why, why, WHY?!_

When the film ended, with the serial killer dying of course, he was a little disappointed. Not because the ending was extremely cliche, but because he, on some small scale, identified with the villain. Not the part about killing for sick pleasure, but the background of the murderer. They both were masked (though for different reasons), lived alone, and had a disturbing past that made them the way they were.

As soon as the credits began, Erik rushed out of the theater as soon as he could, heading straight home in a flash.

////////////////////////////////////////////

_Christine, Christine, Christine, Christine......_

After two hours of attempting to fall asleep, Erik grudgingly sat up on the side of the air mattress. He groaned and ran his hands through his hair tiredly.

_So forgetting her is completely out of the question, so what do I do now?, _he thought irritably. Looking up, he answered himself. _Well I need to find out what I WANT. What is the nature of this erm...attraction?_

He pondered a moment before answering himself yet again. He'd do this a lot, having a questioner and an answerer in his head.

_Sympathy..I feel pain from my past, she does as well...fascination with her beauty and of course, her voice. It's just a--a need to be around her, like an instinct..It's just weird, okay?_

_--What do you want from her?, _a cool voice asked him slyly.

_--I just want to be around her, to talk to her, to make her happy, even though I don't know her. And I'd want her to do the same for me..., _he thought. But then he scolded himself.

_Listen to yourself, Erik, you barely know the girl. This sounds like the common stalker to me._

Groaning in frustration, he stood and started to pace, arguing with himself until finally the cool voice dominated his thoughts.

_--Listen to me, I've already sorted it all out. See, you've been starving for love and kindness since you have come into this world. It's only worsened since you've matured and wanted mostly a __female's __affections, anyone's, but then you saw Christine. Yes, you merely were fascinated by her and pitied her, but since she's the only human you've even mildly cared about, you've unconsciously attached yourself to her. Of course, you never seriously considered her to be a romantic interest but you seriously need company of a woman, any woman. Now your deprivation, natural instinct,, and your emotional attachment to Christine have all blended together, and you will only be satisfied when she's absolutely and totally YOURS. Did that pretty much sum it up?_

Erik was startled by his own summary of the situation. So that was it all along...

_Uh yeah...so what do I do? Obviously I can't just ignore it all._

He thought again before he came to a very desperate conclusion.

**AN: Howdja like zat? Don't ask about my spelling, it's just I feel like typing in an accent...anyhow, REVIEW!!!!! Thank you, darling!**


	5. Information

**AN: I have had a LOT of time to write so...here's the next installment!**

**Chapter 5**

Christine sighed after Raoul had dropped her off at the complex door. (Well, actually, he walked her inside to her apartment, then chatted for half an hour, then kissed her about five times good night, THEN left at last.)

_That was like a bizarre mix between going on a date with a little boy who has a crush on me and going on a date with my brother, _she tiredly thought, the scolded herself. _Don't think that. He loves you and you love him. What's gotten into you?_

Dropping her purse on the kitchen table, she kicked off her shoes and slumped down on the couch. After finding nothing on T.V., she paced over tot he window. There were no stars in the bright city lights, but there was a sliver of the moon. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she looked down at the few people walking by. Her smile faded when one dark figure cought her eye. She could only guess that it was a man, judging by his height and stature. And she could tell he was facing the building in her direction. A car passed by, and for a millisecond, illuminated the person enough for Christine to tell he was watching _her_ part of the complex. He was standing across the street, leaning on a nearby tree and just staring fixedly, like he had nothing better to do all night long. She turned away from the window immediately and began to prepare herself for bed.

_He wasn't looking at me, he wasn't looking at me, he wasn't looking at me...._

Right after she turned off the lights, she checked the window again, her anxiety gnawing at her from the inside.

No one was there.

Christine let out a relieved sigh, then proceeded to at least try to get some sleep. As always, Thunder helped her with that.

/////////////

If that cunning, manipulative voice had not completely taken over Erik's mind, he WOULD be thinking, _Remember what I said about the common stalker? This is it...this is not wise nor good...stop before something terrible happens...._

But the other voice continued to eagerly feed him ideas of the future, enticing him with images of Christine _with him, _of him being _loved_. Consequently, Erik helplessly listened to those insistant whisperings and did everything it commanded.

_Find out where she lives...information, we need information to get what you want, need and DESERVE! Do you know what that is?_

_--Christine._

_--And who is going to win her?_

_--Me._

_--Who's going to lead you to winning her?_

_--You._

_--And what will stand in your way of getting what you want, need, and deserve?_

_--Nothing._

_--Exactly. So, who will triumph at last?  
--I will._

"I will...", Erik encouraged himself, then listened for furthur instructions. Soon, he found himself walking the streets of San Francisco, stopping at every payphone. SO far, all the phonebooks were gone. After a while, he started to get really irritated.

"Seriously, why on earthwould you steal a phonebook?!", he muttered to himself, finding yet another empty booth. At last, he picked up a copy of The Real White Pages outside a department store.

_Let's see..Dale--no, too far...Dabner...aha! Daae._

Checking to see if anyone happened to be watching, he ripped out the section with Christine's information, and tried to track down the address. Considering her voice and appearance and obviously rich boyfriend, Erik was surprised that she lived in Carmichael Complexes, and not a fancy estate (or at least a simple house). As he stood across the street from the building, he looked over it warily. It looked oddly familiar...Shrugging off the feeling, he gazed over the windows, searching for any open or lit. He was thankful for the darkness--there were less people out walking, and the ones that were tended to stare at him less. Eyes still watching the windows, he amusedly observed a redheaded woman throwing various sharp objects at a chubby, Italian-looking man. The man was obviously pleading and apologizing (while he sheilded himself from the hairdryer flying towards him), but the woman screeched on. Reluctantly, Erik tore his gaze away from the amusing spectacle and continued to look for any signs of Christine.

At last he found her--third floor, second window from the right. She just was vacantly staring out into space, as if thinking hard about something. Slowly, she looked towards the ground and appeared startled, making Erik worry that she had seen him. Yet another part of him WANTED her to see him. He could barely see her cocking her head a little confusedly, then a car flew by, blinding him for a moment. When he looked for Christine again, she was out of sight. But since the lights were still on, maybe...nope, then went out.

Hanging his head, Erik stalked back home, all the while planning ways to see Christine as often as he could.

**AN: Yes, we must pity Erik, like we always do...hint hint we'll have to pity Christine soon....REVIEW MY BELOVED READERS!**


	6. A Very Useful Dog

**AN: Yay this chapter is longer than the norm for me now! I feel so accomplished! Read on, those few and precious of you that do.**

**Chapter 6**

Erik now spent eighty percent of his time following Christine from afar anytime she went outside, and the other 20 percent thinking or dreaming about seeing her again. From this, he learned she had a dog--a very big one at that--walked it regularly, jogged almost everyday at three in the park, liked to read in said park, and went on a LOT of dates with Mr. de Chagny. Needless to say, Erik did not accompany them at those times. He also found out that Christine worked at a girl's dancing academy, and sometimes he'd walk by it multiple times to catch glimses of her demonstrating for the students.

But then one night, he realized that his progress was comparable to that of a rodent on a hamster wheel.

_This is ridiculous. I'm getting nowhere and getting nothing out of this. I need to make a way to meet her, or establish communication between us, or SOMETHING other than brainless gawking, _he thought, disgusted with himself. At that thought of establishing communication, an image of a scene from _When a Stranger Calls _came to mind. Erik almost laughed at this.

_No, I am not going to call her twenty times and ask if she's checked the children yet, or just wheeze into the phone. _, he thought jokingly. _But I will do something...something subtle, like any ordinary meeting between two strangers. I also need a way for her to remember me...to make her think she owes me, so she'll...well, CONSIDER certain things and not just walk away and forget all about me. But how? _

Erik, as was his ritual, shadowed Christine on one of her dogwalks again, only this time, she went into a book store. And she left the dog chained to a tree outside...

A grin spread across Erik's face as he thought of a most brilliant idea.

//////////////

"I take it you like old-fashioned books."

Christine shrugged at the cashier's comment.

"I like most books--I was just in a classic-literature mood today.", she chuckled as the lady handed her the novels. She was surprised no one had demanded to know if Thunder was her dog outside. Chaining a dog to public property, even if only for a minute, was probably illegal, but totally harmless to everyone. Right?

Happy with her purchase, Christine stepped out of the book store and started towards the tree where she had left---

"Thunder?!"

He was gone, chain and all. Frantically turning around, eyes flitting in every direction, Christine started to panic. To her, it was as shocking as losing one's child.

_Oh I knew I shouldn't have left him alone! But it was only for a minute! Oh nonononononono....how could he have run off? I tied him securely--what if someone unchained him? He's not a purebred, so he's not worth much if they sold him, so WHY? Oh poor Thunder..._

/////////////////////////

"Thunder. Hm. Maybe she named you after your bark."

The dog's only response was a blink.

"Certainly not your bite."

"Another blink.

"You're a very useful dog, you know that?"

Thunder stuck out his pink tongue and promptly rolled onto his back. Erik only looked at him with confusion before realizing what the canine wanted. Reaching a cautious hand over, he rubbed the soft belly of a very pleased Thunder. It had been surprisingly easy to unchain the mutt, take him to the warehouse, and definitely no trouble to keep him happy. In fact, Thunder seemed more than pleased to go with Erik, as long as he was regularly petted.

"Christine's probably worried sick about you--doesn't seem like you care too much."

As far as Thunder was concerned, who cared where he was or with whom? He wasn't hungry and he was getting frequent tummy rubs.

_See, this will work out perfectly. Sure Christine will be deppressed a while, and I'll be depressed because she's depressed, and I'll have to deal with Thunder, but it'll all work out in the end...yeah...she'll be happy when Thunder's back, I'll be happy because I'll be with her, and the dog--well, he's always happy. It's all going to be good...at least I hope so._

**AN: Okay, not as long as I had hoped, but still. A difference, I believe. And it's quite exciting, don't cha think? Review my darlings!**


	7. Speech

**AN: Wow this is a fast update for me, but ah well. I believe I'll update this a few more times before I put it on haitus to update Demitri, which is a bit more original and it's supposed to be EPIC. Of course, you can't tell that it is yet, but the idea of it is! Anyhoo, on with the next chapter!**

"He probably just pulled loose and ran off."

"For the last time, I tied it too tight for that to be possible! I checked to see if he could run off!"

"Thunder is a pretty strong dog, Christine."

"I'm telling you, someone must have untied him."

After failing to find her missing pet, Christine called Raoul and Meg to help her. Currently, she was busy arguing with Raoul while Meg drove around in her Jeep looking for the dog. Of course, Raoul would do anything to make Christine happy, but he honestly never liked the dog in the first place. He wasn't much of an animal-lover and a big German Sheperd/Siberian husky mix like Thunder freaked him out bigtime. Consequently, he lost interest of recovering the mutt pretty soon.

"Come on Christine, just go home and wait. Don't dogs have this weird sense of finding their way home?", he persisted, but Christine just rolled her eyes.

"That's horses. And no, I'm not going to go home and wait, at least until it's really dark.", she said determinedly. Raoul sighed and forced himself to keep walking.

"Can't I just get my car and--"

"NO."

That was enough to silence him.

_If someone DID take Thunder, _he thought wearily. _He or she is really in for it when they find out how much care that thing needs._

_////////////////////////////////////////_

"Come on! Go to sleep already--I just bought you dinner and gave you twenty belly rubs! What more do you want?", Erik groaned, once again awakened by Thunder's insistent nudging and whining. This time, Erik just rolled over and covered one ear with his pillow. At this, Thunder yipped and hopped on the air mattress, nearly sending Erik flying from the sudden weight on one side of the bed. He was about to yell at the animal, but then Thunder quietyly whined and curled up next to him. Erik's expression softened.

"That's all you wanted, huh?", he murmured, stroking the big, furry head next to him. Those blue and brown eyes drooped and slid closed, as did Erik's own green and gold. He could see why Christine loved the mutt so much: Thunder was irritating as hell, but still irrisistable.

/////////////////////////////////////////

It had been six days and still Christine couldn't find her dog. She'd looked on foot, she'd put up signs, she'd driven around with Meg or Raoul in their cars--still nothing. Yes, it was a big city, and yes, it was highly unlikely he was even alive, but she still had a speck of hope. that is until the seventh day turned and she simply gave up.

"I've failed him, all because I was too lazy to go to that book store some other time!", Christine moaned sadly, burying her face in her hands ans Raoul tried to comfort her. "By now there are so many things that could have happened to him--he could be run over, or have starved, or people could have hurt him, or--or..."

She choked up with tears and cried into Raoul's shirt, him all the while rubbing her back and telling her it was going to be okay.

"Well, he was always smart", he said, trying to calm her down at least a little bit. "He'd avoid cars and find food. It's only been a week, and we don't KNOW that he's dead. We'll find him, we'll find him..."

She didn't believe him. By the next Thursday, she was lifeless around the apartment, pacing lonsomely and getting ready for walks, only to realize there was nobody to walk with. After that she'd just cry for long periods of time. A normal person wouldn't be this unstable even about their best friend, but after both her mother and father died, and Christine was still a young woman, any loss hit hard.

Both Raoul and Meg tried their best to help, and even though she appreciated their concerns, they still got nowhere.

_He's gone. And it's all my fault. I have to accept that. And I have to pay for it. I'm so sorry, Thunder...I'm so sorry._

_////////////////////_

_\_

Erik got very used to sharing everything with Thunder: his warehouse, his air mattress, his food, his TIME....but it was worth it. Not just because the dog was so undeniably adorable, and a great companion, but he also gained Erik extra pity-cash when he'd play his violin. (Sometimes, Thunder would even "sing" when the right notes were hit). In fact, Thunder was so beneficial and distracting, that Erik almost forgot about giving him back to Christine. He almost didn't want to.

But when he passed her apartment complex, and remembered his plan, he knew he'd have to go through with it. For her sake and his. So, he pulled Thunder to a payphone across the street from the building, and dialed the number on the silver dog collar. As it rang, his heart beat faster and faster.

_I'm going to speak to her, we're going to meet at last, please pick up, please pick up!!!, _he thought excitedly. Finally, it happened.

"Hello?"

It sounded nothing like Christine, besides the fact the voice was feminine. Erik's racing heart nearly stopped.

"Um...", he stammered, trying to compose himself. "May I speak with Christine Daae?"

"This is she.", the voice on the other line replied emotionlessly.

_She sounds so...dead., _he thought regrettfully, before talking again.

"I believe I have your dog."

He would have expected a million thank you's, a whoop of joy, a laugh--what he didn't expect was the sound of something breaking in the background as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Really?"

Now Christine's voice was high and hopeful, but not quite happy. It was still better than that depressing monotone.

"Yes--the tag says his name is Thunder.", Erik told her, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"That's his name!", Christine gasped on the other line. But then her voice lowered.

"Wait--is he hurt? Where'd you find him?"

"Oh no, he's in erm...perfect condition. I found him...", Erik trailed off, looking around for a clue to a good lie. "I found him wandering around, in the Golden Gate Park."

NOW, she was giving him a million breathless thank you's. He smiled at the joy in her voice, winking at Thunder.

_No, thank YOU, boy. _, he thought, then cleared his throat.

"Where would you like me to bring him?"

"At my apartment. It's Carmichael Complexes, a big redbrick building off Adamson Street---"

"I know the place.", Erik nodded, staring at the complex just as she was giving directions.

"Good. Just um..come out to the front and I'll be waiting there.", she instructed. It sounded like she was about to hang up, but then she hesitated.

"Thank you SO much!"

Erik tried not to chuckle as he said, "You're very welcome."

After they had both hung up, each of them leaped in the air with a cry of "Yes!" and a laugh.

//////////////////////////////////////

**AN: Oh yes, that's a much better chapter, now isn't it? Review, as always, dearies...**


	8. Surprise!

**AN: You don't even need an explanation. It would be as long as a Steven King novel.**

Christine was practically vibrating with happiness. She skipped down the stairs, almost tripping but still giddy, all the way to the front of the building, just in time to see a man and a dog leave the phone booth directly across the street from her. It took all of her strength to not run out in the middle of traffic to that face she thought she'd never see again. Instead, she waited for the man to cross to the sidewalk. Tearing her eyes away from Thunder, she looked over the person who had saved him. He was very tall and obviously liked black, to say the least. But not in a gothic teen way or biker way. In fact, all of his clothes were very plain, loose, and worn. Even the strange black fedora he wore looked a little oversized and shabby. Not to mention, he kept his head bent down so the said fedora sheilded his face, even when he was standing right in front of her. He was like...a mix between some sort of movie agent and a homeless person.

Meanwhile, Thunder looked exactly like he had before, bright-eyed and panting like he hadn't been gone for however many weeks in the streets of San Francisco.

"Your dog.", the stranger said quietly, handing the chain leash to Christine. She noticed his hands were very pale, with abnormally long fingers. And his voice was that of a singer's, deep and strangely enchanting, though he spoke but two words. But she only barely noticed---she was too busy squeezing the life out of her mutt and kissing the furry head.

"Thank you thank you thank you...", she murmured into Thunder's fur, looking up to the dog's savior. But from her point of view, which was Thunder's as well, no matter how the stranger turned, he couldn't hide his face any longer. She could now see a startling white mask, that covered everything on the right side of his face from the hairline, jaw, and at the bridge of his nose. As she stood, he gave up looking down and made eye contact for the first time. Staring out from the mask was an unusual gold eye, and the other was a dark green.

To put it simply, there were a lot of abnormal things about this man.

Realizing she was staring rudely, Christine flushed and looked away for a moment, before holding out her hand in polite greeting.

"As you know, I'm Christine...", she trailed off, hinting for him to introduce himself. He hesitated, staring at her outstretched hand a moment before cautiously and gently taking the fingertips in his own. As soon as he did, her eyes widened. Almost instantly he withdrew his hand, looking panicked.

"What?', he asked uneasily.

"Sorry, it's just your hand's really cold...um...and it's hot outside..", she trailed off awkwardly, feeling like an idiot. He obviously felt the same way as he flexed the long fingers and coughed.

"They tend to be that way.", he said, then continued in realization that he had forgotten to mention his name. "I'm Erik, by the way."

There was an awkward pause before Christine spoke up again.

"So you just found Thunder walking around, leash attached, totally unharmed after he's been gone over a week?", she asked, gesturing to her dog, who was flopped out on the sidewalk, dozing off. Erik shrugged.

"I just found him today. He was completely fine. Guess a miracle happened over that week."

They both smiled at this, then Christine realized something.

"You know, I think I have something of _yours..._", she mused, putting two and two together in her mind. _The name...singing voice...the music..._

He scoffed. "You can't have anything of mine, I never lost anything."

"Yes I do--it has your name on it."

"There are a lot of people with the name E--"

"Just come and see if it's yours, alright?", she insisted, opening the door to the complex and leading him inside, along with her dog.

_Look at me, inviting a VERY strange man into my home because of a hunch I have....then again, he did save Thunder....and if he suddenly goes psycho, Thunder might protect me. And the kitchen knives...lots and lots of kitchen knives...., _she analized the situation internally, unlocking her apartment door and glancing at Erik, who looked mildly terrified at the sight of her apartment. _It can't be that bad can it? Gah....it is a wreck, isn't it?_

Meanwhile, Erik was very confused and very overwhelmed. All at once, he had spoken to Christine, met Christine, shook Christine's hand, had been invited into Christine's home, and had been told by Christine she had something of HIS. Not to mention that he just found out why the complex looked so familiar--and her specific apartment-- he used to live there.

Sad memories, angry memories, frightening memories all came rushing down on him at the sight of every door and room in the old place.

_That wall...threw me and knocked me out...that closet...locked in it for two days...that kitchen, chased with a steak knife...._

His rudely awakened memories were interrupted by Christine sitting down on the couch and patting the place beside her.

"Please, make yourself comfortable.", she said warmly, with a polite smile. He swallowed nervously as he seated himself a safe distance from her. It was all going according to plan, but it was still petrifying.

"Look familiar?", Christine asked sweetly, holding up tattered sheets of music--with his name signed at the bottom, like she said. His whole body froze up.

_Holy....of all the people to get that manuscript, HER! What? How could this even be coincidence?, _he thought in shock. _I must keep my act up._

"Yes. I threw it out. Didn't want it anymore.", he replied curtly, glaring at the papers that had betrayed him by floating into Christine's hands. She looked shocked herself.

"Why? I played it on my keyboard and it was a beautiful song--even with all my mistakes.", she said confusedly. "You're very talented if you created that piece."

His expression softened. "Thank you."

_She gave me a compliment!, _he thought, feeling like a giddy child, a positive feeling flashing through his otherwise overwhelmed, puzzled, and helpless brain.

"So...can I keep it?", she asked, eyes wide with hope, also like a kid.

"Yeah--of course, please do keep it."

She smiled widely and sprinted off to put the music back in her room. In the few moments she was gone, Erik massaged his temples wearily, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

"Would you like anything to drink? Water, sodas, fruit juices, milk, coffee, you name it.", Christine called, now in the kitchen.

_I can't believe this. No one's ever been this kind anyway, but of all the people to be the first, her? This must be an elaborate, wonderful dream...._

"Um...just water, thanks.", he called back, then thought, _I'm going to need it to calm myself down..._

Christine rather cheerfully bounced into the living room with a glass of water in one hand and soda in the other. Handing him the glass, she popped open her fizzing cola and sat down next to him. She looked so strange when she was this happy, but in a sort of movie-like "seriously-depressed-woman-eating-ice-cream-straight-from-the-tub-and-watching-tearjerker-romances" attire. Which was a baggy, worn t-shirt, sweatpants, houseslippers, and dull hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were puffy and red from recent crying, even though their expression was joyful now. A wave of guilt washed over Erik for the first time since he took Thunder.

_What have I done to her?, _he thought sadly, knowing how she probably spent her days while HE was with the dog he had stolen from her. _But look at her now!, _a cheerful voice reassured him. _She doesn't know it was all your fault! The worst is over, you've broken her down, but now this leaves you room to build her back up again--in YOUR favor. Just enjoy this now._

"So what instument was the music written for?", Christine asked, trying to make conversation. "Piano?"

"No, though I'm sure it works for one. I play the violin.", he replied, a bit nervously. He took a gulp of cold water and noticed how her eyes lit up even more than they already were.

"Really? My father used to play that when I was younger...He loved playing little lullabies for me, making up songs...", she trailed off.

"I"m sorry.", Erik blurted out. She looked surprised.

"For what...?"

"Your father.", he answered. "I mean, um...he's passed away, correct?"

"Yeah, but how did you know?", she asked warily, raising an eyebrow. He came up with an excuse quickly.

"You said he USED to play the violin, he _loved _playing lullabies....Past tense, like the grammar teachers tell you", he said, attempting to lighten the subject. "And you sounded sad when you told me. Just a guess."

He felt himself growing hotter and hotter from embarrassment and worrying about her reactions constantly. Yet again, he sipped the ice-cold water, and chewed on a piece of ice, betting on a negative response from Christine. But she only nodded understandingly and changed the subject.

"Do you sing?", she asked with a curious smile._ Please, no more topics about ME, _he thought with dread.

"On occasion....do you?", he asked, though he already knew the answer. She shook her head sadly.

"No. Not anymore. It reminds me too much of my father.", she murmured, looking down and folding her hands. "I used to, though. When he was alive. He told me I'd be great someday, but no good opportunities came my way. And since he...since he passed, I don't really have any enthusiasm in singing anymore."

Erik couldn't contain it any longer--he'd have to say something truthful or he'd spill it all. Before he could stop himself, it was out.

"But you did sing since he died. You sang at his grave only a month ago!"

Christine's eyes widened and she inched away a little in shock.

"H-how did you know that?", she stammered. "I was alone, I know I was! I was out of earshot of anyone.."

Erik shook his head. "I was there. You just didn't notice. I remember you.", he continued, spitting out information like a broken vending machine. She didn't look relieved, so he added a compliment. "You were incredible, especially if you haven't sung in so long. I don't think I've ever heard such a voice..."

She averted her eyes but smiled, trying to be polite but obviously embarrassed.

"Thank you, but you don't have to lie. I know I sounded bad--"

"No no no, don't say that. You have a rare talent and you should use it.", he pressed on. She chuckled and said, "I could say the same for you."

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed.

_If you only knew who I wrote it FOR...._

Christine continued, saying, "I would like to hear more of your work--that is, not played clumsily by me on an electric keyboard." She laughed at herself. "Even on the keyboard, with so many mistakes, it was still wonderful. It's very rare to find good classical music now--it either sounds like restaurant music or...well, just bad. But that song was so deep, and I'd want to hear it how it's SUPPOSED to sound. Especially on a violin."

Erik swallowed, not knowing how to reply to that. Christine apparantly took the hint and turned a little redder.

_That sounded weird...so weird..., _she growled at herself silently. _Act like a normal person in a situation like this, not like a lonely cat lady spilling her guts to any stranger she meets.._

Meanwhile, Erik had some troubling thoughts of his own. _I'd love to let her hear me, to impress her anyway I could, but HOW? As a poor street musician? I think not! Oh, why didn't I consider that before now?!_

Christine stood and he copied her movements. She looked over him and stepped closer.  
"Thank you again for bringing Thunder back.", she smiled, then hesitated before giving a grateful, loose hug._ Oh forget the cat lady thing, I have liscense to be friendly and show thanks., _she thought for the split-second embrace. Erik, though, froze up and his breath hitched. He didn't have any real thoughts, just dreamy little feelings of bliss and disbelief. She was so near him...so very close....and it was all over in a second.

Christine had never doubted her casuallness to embrace another person if the situation would allow it, even one she had just met. That is, until she felt like she was hugging a statue. Noticing he had stopped breathing, she pulled away, only to see he had started taking in shallow breaths again. Not to mention those strangely colored eyes were considerably wider since she dared touch him.

Without breaking eye contact, Erik backed away with a euphoric expression, opening the door behind him.

"You're...welcome...Christine...goodbye."

With that, he reluctantly left the apartment, closing the door after him.

**AN: Yah. Surprise surprise, eh? Reviews would be wonderful, though I don't deserve it.**


	9. Plans

**Chapter 10**

So far on his way home, Erik had ran into one tree, a trashcan, and several people because he was so deliriously happy. Stumbling mindlessly, he kept replaying what had happened over and over in his head. Everone he passed looked at him like he was stoned (which he indeed appeared to be) but he didn't even notice. People stared anyway.

Once he was on 'his' floor of the warehouse, he glanced at his precious violin and had a sudden urge to compose. If anything drastic happened, good or bad, a sort of muse came to him, forcing him to let it out through music, writing it down later if he could use it for money. His collection of songs and even full scores was the closest thing to a journal he ever kept. This particular occasion was the happiest and most exciting thing that had ever happened to him so far, so it would probably be the theme of at least three songs, if not more.

He only stopped feverishly writing and playing the violin when his stomache was not just growling, but shrieking to be filled. Just then, he also noticed he had a huge headache from both hunger and the constant writing. So, reluctantly leaving his music, he staggered dizzily down the stairs to the street with a pocketful of cash. Of course, this late at night there was basically fast food and bars open. Needless to say, he went for the Micky D's, since in his eyes, bars were for people who's lives had just gotten completely ruined. And he, for once, was just the opposite.

//////////////

/////////////

_That was...odd, _thought Christine after Erik had left. _I don't think I've ever seen anyone so unbelievably happy over a hug._

She had been petting Thunder for the past few minutes and he finally decided to get up. With the weight suddenly off her lap, Christine was roused from her deep thought. Then, she realized something.

_I must tell Meg everything--and Raoul...almost everything._

She rushed over to the phone and automatically dialed Meg's number first. As it rang, she got excited all over again.

"Hi Christine", drolled a female voice through the phone. "Where do you want me to look now?". Christine just laughed, and said, "Nowhere! Someone found him and Thunder's here now, perfectly fine!"

To prove it, Christine put the phone next to a disgruntled Thunder, giving him the cheesy puppy command "speak". At the bark, Meg squealed giddily.

"Oh I'm so happy for you! And he's not hurt or anything? That's amazing he such a lucky dog! Most would have at least gotten a little skinnier or bugs or worse....", she babbled. Her next words caught Christine's attention, though. "Whoever found him and gave him back is a saint, knowing this city..."

"Speaking of that...", the brunette mused. "That person happened to be the owner of that music I found a couple weeks ago, you know, the one I played rather badly for you over the phone once."

There was a pause on the other line, then a long drawn out "Ooohhh..."

Meg chuckled. "Yeah I remember that now...". She snorted, indicating she remembered Christine's bad piano skills. But her friend only rolled her eyes and continued. Or rather, rambled. "You wouldn't believe how strange he was, I mean first, he called rom a payphone right across the street from me. Then, he was dressed really weirdly, with kind of shabby, all black stuff. There's a lot of weird dressers here, but this was pretty unique. Third, he must be a professional singer, just from his speaking voice. It was just unnaturally good. And when I shook his hand, you know to introduce myself, it was so _cold, _like he had dunked it in ice. Yes that does sound like a classic vampire movie scene, but it happened. Later, like I said, I found out he owned that music and that he 'threw it out'. Apparantly from a high building, just out the window like that! And when we got to talking, he somehow made me spill a lot of information about myself without even asking that much, like I had been his friend forever and could tell him personal things about dad and singing and violin music...just things I don't discuss with normal people--oh and did I mention that _he wears a mask?"_

When she finally stopped to breath, Meg went silent for a while.

"Meg? Hello?", Christine asked, making sure she didn't accidentally hang up.

"Yeah I'm here...uh did you say mask?", Meg asked unsurely. Christine nodded, even though no one could see it.

"Mmhm, actually just half. Like I said, really, really, strange person."

Meg 'hm'ed and said, "Judging by everyday people, that's not a common thing, so I'm pretty sure I just saw your guy run past me today."

Christine sucked in a surprised breath. "Really?"

"Yep.", Meg said, then laughed. "He looked drunk or on drugs. Staggering around and bumping into things with this freakishly happy expression."

The brunette raised an eyebrow skeptically. "He couldn't be anything but sober, if you just saw him and I just saw him....freakishly happy, huh? That was the last strange thing: I hugged him and he sort of froze up--"

"Woah, woah, hold up. You _hugged a stranger?"_, Meg asked in mild shock. Thankful her friend couldn't see her go pink, Christine explained.

"In gratitude. Besides, I already told you, he had this weird effect that made me feel like I had been his friend forever. Anyway, he went all ridgid and just backed away with this ectstatic expression and left thanking me. Or stammering a 'thanks' anywa. It was like I'd just given him a house and a Jaguar. Like he'd never been hugged."

Meg coughed and laughed again. "Alrighty then, that's a Code Red Wierdness right there."

"Meg, we haven't used the codes since middle school.", pointed out Christine, chuckling a little too. "Besides, that's only DANGEROUS wierdness. I'd say it's code Yellow."

"Code _Yellow _is for things like meeting a nerd from high school at a coffee shop...this is downright freaky.", Meg slowly said.

"Ok then, orange."

"THAT'S for things like when said nerd asks you out at said coffee shop!"

Christine sighed, still comprimising with their old Weirdness Codes.

"Orange-Red?"

"Nope."

"Red-orange?"

"No, this is freaking stoplight red!", insisted Meg. Eventually, they both burst out laughing at the stupidity of their conversation. Just as their giggling had started to die down, Meg started struggling out an explanation. "Oh sorry, I uh....", she started before a male voice purred close to the phone, "Tell her you have to go..."

There was a disgusting smacking noise and the sound of more girlish giggling. Then a thud and feet dragging on the floor, accompanied by squealing.

"Sorry girl, I got a man that seriously needs tending to and--"

The line went dead.

Rolling her eyes and grinning, Christine hung up. Meg had always been this way, but it was always pretty funny. She thought amusedly about the situation before dialing Raoul's number.

///////////////

//////////////

"Yes! It worked! Am I not the luckiest son of a--ow!"

Still laughing hysterically despite the pain from tripping over a stair, Erik continued to scramble his way to the fifth floor of the warehouse.

_Come to think of it, technically I am a that--mother was no saint...and a bastard too. And a lucky one at that!, _he thought, flopping down on his air mattress. _Now, to the next part of my plan, getting rid of Chagny-boy. Hm...he doesn't seem to be going anywhere soon. Let's see...maybe I can get her to leave him somehow. What would make her hate him and never even think about coming back?_

Erik must have thought about what to do for about five full minutes before genius hit him.

_Cheating. I could somehow frame him. Hm...but that will be plan B. For now, I'm pretty sure just being around her more and more often will make him suspicous--no, I'm obviously not any competition to HIM, but it could certainly strain the relationship if done right...I have now convieniently discovered that Christine is sensitive about violin music. If I played it at places she goes often ehough, eventually I could draw her in more and figure out more things, useful things._

Racking his brain to remember information that Christine had spilled earlier, Erik wrote useful little tid-bits and began forming furthur plans.

//////////////

////////////////

"Well that's wonderful that you found Thunder. I'm really happy for you", said Raoul genuinely over the phone after Christine had explained everything. She smiled tying a final knot in her tennis shoes.

"I know--I'm just about to go walk him now, actually.", she said, sighing happily. "Things will finally get back to normal.."

"Hey, since I'm off work today and you are too, why don't you take Thunder with you to that cafe you've been wanting to try--it allows dogs outside, on the patio.", he pointed out. "What was the place called..."

"Little Charlottes?"

"Yeah! So, can you stop by?", he asked hopefully. Since Thunder had gone missing, Christine had been too upset to go out of her apartment for anything, except absolutely necessary things like work. By now, it was only natural Raoul wanted even the most casual date to get their relationship back on track.

"Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes, if I hurry.", she replied.

"You don't have to hurry, I have the whole day off."

"Well, I will anyway.", she chuckled. "See you then. Love you."

"Love you too."

_Beep. _

///////////////

///////////////

_I am certain she's eager to be with the dog now, and I'll bet anything she'll be walking him today., _Erik thought, sitting silently on a bench in his favorite performance area: the park. He could see her apartment building from where he sat, just barely spotting the door and everyone coming in and out of it.

_I'll start playing when I see her come out, _he told himself, wating patiently and monitoring the door from afar. After a while, his mind (and eyes) wandered boredly. _I might as well start now, just to occupy myself and make some money._

Lifting the violin to his shoulder, he ran through a few songs mechanically, watching the complex's exit intently and not even noticing the few people standing around him. Eventually, he stopped to thank them and take a look at the money they left in his turned over fedora. He sighed disappointedly. There were only a few coins, and Christine hadn't shown up.

_She's just not coming today. I was wrong..., _he thought sadly, standing to leave. Just then, he heard a familiar bark.

Flipping himself around and scanning the street hopefully, Erik felt his heart rate increse when he finally spotted her. Christine was crossing the walking/running track, apparantly just going to run straight through the park.

_That's odd...why is she in such a hurry? And with her dog?, _he wondered curiously, following carefully from a good twenty or thirty feet away. Christine made a beeline to the other side of the Golden Gate Park, speedwalking and not in her usual attire. The old baggy tee she normally wore for exercise was replaced by a more fitted, nice green top, and the worn out shorts were traded for khaki capris. The only thing that stayed the same was her ponytail and her sneakers.

More interested than ever, Erik shadowed her all the way to the other end of the park, all without her noticing. (Then again, he had plenty of practice with this sort of thing, and she was obviously preoccupied.) From the shadow of a few trees, he watched her as she went to a little cafe across the street. She looked around the patio outsie, before eagerly running to a table. The person there got up and hugged her, then patted Thunder.

_Chagny..._thought Erik hatefully. _Fantastic. Even if I did somehow get her attention from here, I would not want it to be in the company of HIM. I want to save that particular meeting for a later time..._

Disgruntled and frustrated, he left--in a very fashionable huff.

**AN: Good? Funny? Bad? Lame? Do tell!**


	10. An offer

**AN: Good day, my fellow fanficers......or fanfickers, whatever. I've just discovered fanfiction on gaiaonline--still haven't found POTO among all the Twilight rubbish but I've found plenty of phans on discussion forums. Um...I don't think anyone but my two or three loyal reviewers are actually reading this story anymore but I'll post anyway because I have no life and because I am unbearably, insanely, DESPERATELY BORED. **

**That is all.**

**Chapter Whatever It Is**

The next few days were either too hot or too rainy for Christine to go outdoors, except in a taxi to her summer jobs as a waitress for a few restaurants. Eventually, Erik ditched the park and tried his lucky on a bench outside an Italian restaurant Christine worked at on Mondays through Wednesdays. He waited until about ten minutes before she got off to start playing the violin (and with certain songs, singing as well). There was a surprisingly large crowd around him this time. Perhaps because the music he had chosen sort of set the mood for the many couples sitting on the tables outside _Provinos_. Normally, this would be wonderful business but right now, all Erik cared about was Christine being able to see him through all of the people.

At last he saw her, curious but tired face peep through the crowd--she disappeared, then pushed forward with a newly shocked expression. Erik deliberately put more heart into what he was singing, glancing at her a lot more often than anyone else. Finally, she made her way around right next to him and listened like everyone else--in awe. When he finished with a long, beautiful chord, he just turned around to her and grinned.

"Hi Christine"

She hesitated and blinked suddenly, as if snapped out of a trance.

"Um...hey.", she replied awkwardly. "Nice to see you again."

"I was about to say the same thing.", he mused, still smiling a bit foolishly. Returning it, Christine said, "So...I got my wish. Wishes, actually."

He tilted his head a little in confusion. "And what's that?"

By now, the crowd had finally departed, disappointed and a bit irritated that Christine had interrupted Erik's playing. She watched them go, then chuckled a little.

"I wanted to hear you play your violin. And sing", she answered, sitting down on the bench beside him.

Sighing, she added, "It was a nice end to a long day at work. I can't believe how well you play--and your _voice..._"

He quietly laughed and averted his eyes shyly. "...is nothing compared to yours.", he finished.

Scoffing, Christine rolled her dark eyes, which had brightened considerably since she left work.  
"Why aren't you famous yet?", she asked, partially teasing, but mostly serious. Feeling lucky all over again, Erik smoothly answered that question with another.

"Why aren't you?"

She sighed again, glancing away, then back at him.

"I simply cannot convince you that I'm no good can I?", she asked, a tiny smile hidden within her expression. He simply shook his head and grinned.

"That's impossible. You are--" he started, then corrected himself quickly. "Your _voice _is wonderful."

"Ok, ok, I'll agree if you do.", she said, as if making a deal. He shrugged.

"Fair enough."

That seemed to cheer her up. Her presence alone was certainly making HIM happier. The orange glow of the setting sun was quickly fading, and dark grey-ish blue was beginning to cover the sky from the East. Christine noticed this, and stood.

"I have to get home. It was nice to see you again.", she said with an apologetic smile. Erik quickly came up with a logical excuse to stay with her a little while longer.

"I could come with you--if you're worried about safety that is. It IS San Francisco, and you're walking alone at night...so um...", he trailed off awkwardly. Turning back to him, Christine appeared amused.

"You're offering to walk me home?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He averted his eyes and flexed his hands nervously.

"I suppose I am...nevermind, I'm sure you're perfectly capable of defending yourself, I was just um...just nevermind."

She shook her head. "No, I understand. You can come. Actually, I'd prefer it."

Erik looked back up at her and smiled, a small feeling of triumph washing over him. _One step closer..._Christine smiled as well as he gathered his violin and his music, stashing money in his pocket and donning his hat. Once his case was in hand, they started their walk to Carmichael Complexes.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's your profession? Other than playing the violin and singing for crowds.", she asked him in a genuinely curious tone. Thinking fast, he replied, "Right now, that and working at various fast food places. And selling, or attempting to sell, some songs I wrote."

"Oh" She nodded. "I'd expect they'd sell for a lot. Your music is extremely good, to say the least.."

"Thank you, but people only appreciate it when they hear it. No one wants to take the time to play it out.", he shrugged. There was a pause before Erik asked (even though he knew the answer) what her profession was.

She rolled her eyes. "Restaurants, like you--at least during the summer. The rest of the year, I teach ballet."

"It seems like we're in the same position of income and potiential of income. Except you have higher of both, no doubt.", he mused, looking at the ground as they walked. She tilted her head in confusion.  
"What do you mean?"

"Well, we're both working at restaurants--though you do fancy, nice places and I do fast food--and we have almost the same potiential in careers as musicians. Once again, you with the higher chance.", he explained. When she didn't reply, he added, "I dont mean to offend you--the ballet teaching probably pays very well, and the other jobs, I just um..noticed a similarity...I'm sorry--"

"Don't apologize, I understand. Kind of funny, actually.", she said thoughtfully. "Maybe I could get back into singing, but I'm so out of practice..."

"What about lessons?", suggested Erik. She shook her head.

"Too expensive."

"..What about _free _lessons?", he trailed off, coming up with a risky but wonderful idea. _I'm rather creative today..Oh this is a huge step--too friendly, too personal, too quick..not to mention I've only taught MYSELF...but it just might work._

Christine stopped in her tracks, and so did he. Slowly turning to him, she asked, "What exactly do you mean, Erik?"

He swallowed nervously and took the plunge.

"I mean, that if you wanted, if you had time, _I _could re-teach you, so to speak. For free.", he clarified his earlier statement, trying to appear casual. Looking back to the sidewalk before her, Christine began walking again. He followed, feeling desperate.

"That's a very big offer...", she said, more to herself than him. "Considering the price for lessons usually..."

"I could teach you when and wherever you want.", he added. "I have all the time in the world and anywhere you feel comfortable is fine with me. Or not at all, I guess..."

"I'd have to think about that...I'm not sure if I'll have enough time. I'm working or walking Thunder from dawn to dusk, except on Sundays, where I'm at church. And I don't know if once a week would even get it. You know, I'm not even sure I _want _to get back into singing anyway. There's just a lot to think about..."

Erik nodded hesitantly and gazed downward, feeling like an idiot. Christine sighed and the rest of the walk was silent. When they got to the apartment building, she paused.

"Thank you for walking me. And for the offer. I'll seriously think about it.", she said, nodding with a ghost of a smile. He nodded as well.

"Thank YOU for letting me, and for considering it."

The faint smile widened and she bid him goodnight, opening the apartment door.

"Goodnight", he echoed once she had disappeared inside. He looked longingly at her window and sighed before heading to his own home.


	11. Accepting

**AN: VAMPPHAN LIIIIIVES!**

**Chapter Whatever It is Again**

_Why is he being so friendly? Sure I invited him inside once, but then just happening to show up outside the restaurant? Walking me home? Offering me FREE singing lessons?, _Christine thought, lying in her bed with Thunder at her feet and her eyes wide open. She turned over on her side and sighed, looking at her alarm clock. It was 1:48 AM. _Maybe it WAS an accident, and any decent guy would offer to walk a woman home in that part of town. And maybe Erik's just so bored and lonely he didn't know what else to do with his time besides teaching me. I'm overreacting...maybe I will take up the offer after all...perhaps Sundays will fit into my schedual._

After finally deciding this, Christine eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day after work, Christine used her walking time to go looking for Erik. She checked the park, every sidewalk bench, and turned around at every hint of music she heard. Exasperated, she led Thunder to the Golden Gate bridge itself.

_There's plenty of street performers here normally....lots of tourists and such..._she thought, scanning each sidewalk from one end of the bridge. _I'm not walking this whole thing to find out he's not there. I'll just try again tomorrow._

Christine was just about to head back when she heard a quiet "Hello" behind her. Startled, she turned around, then sighed. Who else?

"I've been looking for you everywhere.", she said with a short laugh, and Erik couldn't help but grin.

"So have I--I mean looking for you, not that I've been looking for myself too...that would be odd--em...", he nervously mumbled, then coughed and averted his eyes. Christine just laughed again, brushing some curls out of her eyes. Nearby, Thunder inspected a pole.

"I've decided I'll take the lessons.", she declared finally. Erik looked away from the bay and once again to her, with a quite surprised expression.

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. Sundays, if that's alright."

He shook his head and shrugged. "Oh whatever is good with you--I have all the time in the world! Sure, Sundays would be fine."

Slightly taken aback by his eagerness, Christine nodded. "Alright. Where do you want to have the lessons? At your house?"

He swallowed and looked down unsurely.

"Um...how about at yours? You'd be more comfortable there anyway...", he replied, then asked, "And what hours?"

Christine did the math in her head, computing what hours she had leftover from church, walking Thunder, and even any possible dates with Raoul that always turned up at about the same time, same days.

"Um..any time from three to six.", she shrugged. "How much time would you need?"

He ran a hand through his hair and thought a moment before answering slowly.

"I don't really know...I've never had a student before. And I don't want to take up ALL of your free time, so perhaps three to four? We can just try that and see how it goes."

"Alright. That's good enough for me."

Erik smiled and was going to say something else when Christine suddenly jerked Thunder away from an old woman and her terrier walking by. The huge mutt growled in frustration and grudgingly came back to Christine's side.

"You know, when I first saw Thunder, I thought he was a wolf.", said Erik with a short laugh.

"He'd like to think so. Really, he's just a giant teddy bear.", she giggled, reaching down to stroke the dog's head, reassuring him that she still loved him. The dog seemed to look at Erik as if to say, "If I could take to Christine, you'd be so busted."

Eyes widening slightly at the thought, Erik shifted his gaze to the bay. It was calm today, though foggy, and there were a few boats out in the grey water. His thoughts drifted like the tiny figures on the boats, until Christine's voice snapped him out of it.

"Have any luck out here? With the violin, I mean."

He paused a moment to make out what she said, then replied with a smile that could only be described as disappointed.

"Not as much as I'd have hoped. I suppose it's too dreary a day for many people to come out walking on the bridge..."

They both glanced around, noticing the lack of tourists and other walkers.

"It seems I wont have much business. I should probably try outside restaurants or something today.", he continued, partially to himself, and picked up his violin case, starting to walk away before Christine and Thunder folowed.

"Yeah and I should get home too--what part of the park will you be at Sunday?", she questioned.

"Close enough so you can probably see me from your apartment.", he answered, only thinking about how that sounded after he said it. Christine thought that sounded a bit odd herself, but made no show of it on her face. Instead, she just smiled as they reached the end of the bridge. He grudgingly realized that her apartment was in one direction while all the restaurants were in the other.

"Ok, I'll try to find you again", said Christine with a little wave. "Good to see you."

Erik waved back, trying to hide his disappointment as she walked away, down the sidewalk near the bay. But his disappointment in their parting was shortlived once he realized how important her acceptance was to his plan. Now he had an excuse to see her, that is, when she could see him too.


	12. Lesson

**Authors Note: Hello I have a new Word thing-y and am quite happy with it…I've been incredibly busy but have been writing fanfiction in notebooks whenever I get the chance to. So…I have a lot ready to type just not a lot of time to type it. Thank you all for your reviews, I can't tell you how much I appreciate them…and here's a poor excuse for the reward you really deserve.**

Chapter 13

_Today's the day…just whenever she decides to come find me…, _thought Erik, stretched out under an oak tree with his hat tilted over his face instead of beside him like it usually was. The leaves of the tree chattered softly in the light breeze, and distant sounds of childrens laughter and dog's barking could be heard over the traffic surrounding the huge park.

Erik checked his silver watch—it was 2:45, a bit early for Christine to show, but he was still anxious. He kept his mind occupied by admiring the watch. After earning enough money to finally treat himself to such an unnecessary item, he bought the small timekeeper in a cheap but unique little vintage shop in a part of town Erik hadn't visited in a while. The shopkeeper there was unusually kind, and he only realized that the woman was blind when she always looked in the same direction, and touched everything in her path. Erik ended up paying twice as much as he normally would for the watch out of gratitude and pity.

_What a great world it would be if everyone were blind…, _he thought, absentmindedly toying with the watch. _It would certainly cut down on the law suits for racism—then again, I can imagine humanity would find another way to discriminate people…"Your skin is rough, you're beneath we smooth-skins!"_

He smirked a little to himself as he silently mocked the human race, but his thoughts scattered and fled like a flock of startled pigeons when he heard a quiet cough. Raising his head, he discovered the source of the sound—Christine. She was standing a few feet away from him, in a casual but nice attire. For once, she hadn't brought her beloved beast of a pet.

"Hello", he greeted upon standing. She repeated him and smiled.

"Not performing today?", she asked. He shook his head.

"Nah, just relaxing."

Laughing a little, Christine said, "I wish I had time for that." He shrugged. "It's surprising how little you have to work to get what you really need…I know you'd get a lot of rest once you turned your talent into a career…", he hinted. She rocked back on her heels slowly.

"I doubt that, but let's go see exactly how much I have to work on."

She turned to walk back to her apartment and Erik followed, catching up to her side.

"So how do you spend YOUR time?", Christine asked. "I envy how much free time you seem to have."

"No you don't." he replied. "It's quite boring—I perform, I occasionally work at fast food joints, I write more songs to perform…and then, I just hang around doing nothing, pretty much."

"There must be something you do for fun or people you spend time with…", said Christine. He swallowed and shrugged.

"Um…well if I have enough money I'll watch any good horror flick that's on…or just sneak in.", he said jokingly, and she grinned.

"But you don't have any obligations to visit people—parents, relatives, friends, girlfriends…"

He bit his lip. _So that's how little of a life I have…_

"Well…I don't know of any relatives and um…I have no friends, let alone a girlfriend, so…no. Just me, myself, and I."

"I'm your friend", Christine pointed out.

_Great. At least I'm SOMETHING to her, _he thought bitterly. _I was aiming for something more than that…_

"I doubt you're entirely friendless.", she added. He just shrugged, yet again, so she continued. "And if it's not too personal…what do you mean you don't know of any relatives?"

_Damn. I really, really don't want to tell her all of this…_

"I don't know of any aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, or anything like that and I don't know who my father is—or was. And I haven't seen my so-called mother since I was 12. For all I know, shes dead too, and I can't say I'd be heartbroken if I found out she is."

Christine was silent for a moment as they approached the apartment building's door. Erik sighed and apologized.

"I'm sorry…it's not as bad as it sounds, really. I shouldn't have told you."

"No, no I asked. I'm glad you did, actually. You needed to tell someone and I needed to know SOMETHING about you."

She opened the door and they stepped into the small foyer before climbing the spiraling staircase. At the apartment door, Erik turned to Christine.

"I'm happy you'll let me tell you things. I'm not used to it, that's all.", he said quietly, eyes jumping from hers to the floor and back again.

"Feel free—anytime.", she replied with a smile. Christine opened the door and they stepped inside, both surprised to see Thunder sleeping on the couch, not attacking them with licks. Erik settled in an armchair, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket.

"What's that?", Christine asked, sitting on the couch, careful not to disturb the mass of fur dozing there.

"A short song I wrote last night for you to practice with—but after you warm up. You have had lessons before, correct?"

She nodded.

"Then you should know how to practice your scales", he said, leaning back in his chair. When she only looked around awkwardly, he asked, "Well, don't you?"

"I think I do, but it's been so long…"

"Just try. You just need to exercise your vocals a little for me to see your good points and what needs to be improved. And also, get warmed up, like I said."

Hesitantly, Christine began the scales she remembered doing before every lesson with her former teacher, Mrs. Parson. That woman was most likely the strictest singing coach on the face of the earth, with methods able to provoke someone to sue. Though he was more than nice to her, Christine couldn't help but suspect that Erik would be a harsh instructor, especially since she wasn't paying him.

"You're a tad too quiet—try again, project your voice.", he interrupted, and she started over. Soon enough, he interrupted again.

"Alright, you're warmed up enough.", he said, handing her the sheet of handwritten music. "Run through that—nice and loud, but not forced."

Christine nodded, scanning the song before beginning to sing it, trying to ignore the fact that Erik was watching and listening carefully. The lyrics were ironic—it was music ABOUT music—and the notes were simple enough, not too high or too low. When she finished, she found Erik staring off into space, hands folded in his lap.

"Well?", she asked. He nodded and slowly looked to her.

"Sorry, I was just thinking.", he said. "Your voice is a bit weak and strained in some places, but that's only from being out of practice so long. Easily fixable. I don't mean to sound like a doctor, but the only cure for it is singing as much as possible, to the radio, to your iPod…anything you can. I'm not a professional, but that's what worked for me."

"You taught yourself how to sing?", she asked, surprised.

"Yes..and the violin."

"Wow, you are accomplished, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Not nearly."

There was a short pause, then Erik stood. "Do you know any songs by heart? Besides ones that everone knows, I mean.", he asked, eyes darting around the apartment.

"Yes I know a lot—why?"

"It would be best to hear you sing a song that you're especially good at, to detect more serious problems…", he explained and she averted her eyes.

"I know the songs by heart but um..I wouldn't be good at them because I havent sung since Dad died—except at the cemetery."

"You haven't even hummed to a song you like?", he asked disbelievingly.

"Not once."

He sighed and paced a bit more before speaking again.

"Just think of a song that you enjoy, one that doesn't have too many extreme notes…an easy one."

Christine thought a while as Erik continued pacing.

"What about 'The Last Time' by Jamie Adams?", she suggested.

"I haven't heard many modern songs. Sing it for me.", he replied, sitting down again, waiting for her to gather her thoughts and start.

It was a melancholy song that Erik guessed Christine liked because she could relate to it. Her voice had considerably less scratchy, forced parts and she put more feeling into it. Even with his discriminating tastes, Erik probably would have enjoyed the song anyway if he had heard it before.

"Has anyone ever told you not to sing from your throat?", he mused when she finished.

"What? Where am I supposed to sing from, then?", Christine asked, confused.

"There's a richer, fuller effect if you try to sing from here.", he said, pointing to his own torso, just below the ribs. "From the diaphram. It's hard to explain how to do it, just attempt, say, the chorus from that song, only try not to simply project your voice from your throat."

Still puzzled, Christine tried the chorus again, doing her best to do as Erik said.

"Good try…eh you'll get better at that once smaller things are fixed", he said, trying not to appear discouraged so she wouldn't be either. Christine nodded, then thought of an idea.

"Could you give me an example of what I should sound like? I mean I know your voice is entirely different from mine, but I need to know what the difference is with the um…diaphram thing."

Slightly taken aback, Erik hesitated before quickly thinking of one of his own songs.

"Of course.", he said, then began a small part of his song.

Christine was surprised when he started singing in French—something else he had taught himself? Listening for example but mainly for enjoyment, she could tell by the emotion in his deep, slightly rough voice that it was a light-hearted song. Little did she know it was also a love song—and about her. Ah the advantages of language.

"That was beautiful…I didn't know you spoke French.", Christine said. "I always wanted to learn it…"

"Thank you and perhaps I can teach you that someday as well", Erik replied, smiling.

"Perhaps…"

They both fell silent, then Erik stood again.

"Well that's all for today I guess. Just practice as much as possible, like I said and I'll see you next Sunday."

**AN: Ow. My wrists. Ow.**


	13. Erik's plotting proceeds

**AN: sorry if you had trouble reviewing because it said that you had reviewed the last chapter before. I deleted the chapter that wasn't really a chapter so it changed up all the numbers past 8. My apologies again.**

**The REAL Chapter 13.**

Erik had been battling in his mind about whether or not he would actually break Christine and Chagny up. From what he had seen, this extremely lucky boy was quite possessive of Christine and very protective too. Also from what he had seen, Chagny had no interest whatsoever in other women. He was nice to waitresses but not overly so, and he never looked at another woman except when he had to speak to them. That's why it would be difficult to buy that Chagny had cheated. Difficult, but not impossible.

_Why does he have to be so damn perfect? Doesn't he have any flaws?_

No matter how many times Erik forced himself to follow Christine on her outings with Raoul (usually outdoor ones where he wouldn't be discovered as easily) he only found more irritating perfection. Thankfully for Erik's eyes, they weren't the most passionate of couples but there was light affection here and there.

With every lesson he had with Christine, she was friendly but sort of distantly guarded. Erik had to make more of a professional show of himself—she couldn't know of his feelings until HE had gone.

After a few more torturously business-like lessons, Erik finally decided to do it.

"Hello this is 'For Your Entertainment' services how may we help you this evening", a cool female voice answered the phone in a purr.

"Well it's not actually for me, it's for my friend…see I'm bringing him a surprise bachelor party…can you do that?", Erik asked, trying not to snicker like a mischievous child as he held the payphone to his ear.

"Of course we can. What type of girls is your friend into?"

"Oh every sort. The more exotic and wild, the better." he replied smoothly. "Bring at LEAST two."

"Exotic and wild is our specialty", the girl on the other line giggled. "Are you sure you don't want any amusement for yourself, honey?"

"Nah I have a girl, thanks. How much will this cost?"

"Around $7,000."

Erik grinned even wider. Chagny was going to pay—literally.

"My friend will pay every cent, and possibly more. He's rich…", Erik hinted. "You might know where he lives: the Chagny Estate."

The girl gasped.

"Are you talking about Mr. Henry de Chagny or his son?"

"His son of course."

Oh our girls have only dreamed of getting him…we'll be there by ten tonight—"

"Wait uh can you postpone it until tomorrow at eight? He won't be home until then…", Erik quickly covered. He could almost hear the girl nod.

"Sure."

"Thanks so much", he said, then hung up, pausing a moment before laughing with triumph.

_I only wish I could watch…_

_//////////_

_She's going to be so thrilled.., _Raoul thought as he gazed at the small velvet box in his palm. His house was already lit with candles, the housemaid preparing a caviar dinner with wine. Everything was absolutely perfect. NOTHING could ruin this night for him.

The doorbell rang.

"Bit early for Christine to show up…", he murmured to himself, puzzled, as he made his way to the door. Once he opened it, his jaw dropped in horror and disbelief.

There stood three women—one blonde, one black, and one Asian, all scantily clad.

"Hey baby the party's arrived.", the blonde said, smiling smugly as she invited herself in. The others followed, purposely brushing past him and giving him suggestive winks.

"W-what? Wait a minute…how the hell…", stammered Raoul, starting to panic. As the girls made themselves at home on the leather sofa, he demanded what was going on.

"Your friend sent us for your bachelor party.", the Asian replied, adjusting her tight black and red corset.

"Bachelor party? I'm not getting married! I was planning on proposing TONIGHT! And WHAT friend?!", he exploded. The black girl chose to answer these questions casually.

"Your friend told us you were", she shrugged. "And we don't know his name he just said that you needed some lovin'."

"So…let us give it to you.", the blonde purred, slightly leaning on him and trailing her long nails down his chest. The other two stood and surrounded him as well, and as he was pushing them away, the doorbell rang again.

"Oh God."

Struggling to get away, Raoul finally opened the door to see who he had previously been dying to see and now dreaded.

"Christine—I swear, this is NOT what it looks like…I have no idea who said I had a bachelor party but I promise it wasn't me…", he choked, all three girls tugging and hanging onto him.

All Christine could do was stare in shock, going pale. It felt like her life just shattered into a million pieces—her boyfriend of three years and friend since childhood had betrayed her.

Assuming that Christine was another prostitute, the black woman looked her up and down and tsk-ed.

"You're late.", she snapped, still pulling at Raoul to come back inside. Yet again trying to push them off him, he gave Christine his most apologetic and pleading look. She only staggered back, still staring before finally turning her back on the sight and running away in tears.

After shouting after Christine in vain and prying the women off him at last, Raoul let himself be alone to cry as well.

/////

Christine had to walk all the way down the estates long winding driveway since the taxi had already left. And it was an extremely long way to the road—so she called Meg to pick her up. When she got to the street, Christine was still crying a little, though not sobbing anymore. It only took a few minutes of torture with her own thoughts before Meg pulled up.

"You poor thing…get in", the blonde sighed, looking down at the emotional wreck on the curb. Trying to get herself together, Christine climbed in the Jeep and began to tell her story.

//////

_She should be showing up anytime now…,_Erik thought, sitting on the bench outside Christine's apartment. As he waited, he noticed a pattern in his techniques in winning her.

_I stole her dog the "rescued" it, I ruined her relationship, now I'm going to comfort her about it…and hopefully replace him with myself…_

Just as he was beginning to feel guilty about hurting the girl, a red Jeep pulled up and Christine stepped out, looking weak and quite upset. Immediately, Erik got into character, appearing surprised at her condition.

"What happened?", he asked, standing from the bench as Christine approached the door. She looked at him dully at first but then in confusion.

"Why are you here?"

_Crap. Think, Erik, think…_

"Good place to perform—but I'm just resting right now.", he quickly lied. "So…why are you back so early?"

Erik tried his best to look genuine as Christine stepped closer, sniffling and shaking her head.

"Did…did something happen with Raoul?", he urged, feeling more guilty than ever as she nodded.

"I-I can't believe it…it's completely not like him to do something like this…if-if Raoul ever hurt me then he's not even Raoul anymore…", she stuttered, then her voice grew stronger and she made eye contact with Erik. "He cheated on me. With three women. At one time! Three whores at his house when I showed…"

Then she broke down, and Erik took the liberty of gently holding her in a comforting embrace. The guilt was more prominent, but the pride in his results was stronger.

"Wow…oh Christine, I'm so sorry…that's awful..", he sighted sympathetically, but his heart swelled when she leaned on him, quietly crying into his shirt. Eventually, she pulled away, her now puffy eyes moving to the door.

"Will you come in with me? I don't want to be alone after…that.", she said. She looked at him with such a pitiful expression, Erik doubted anyone could resist accepting her.

"Of course", he replied understandingly as he followed her inside. In his mind, he was whooping with triumph by the time the two were greeted by a yipping Thunder. Kneeling, Christine cuddled the huge dog as Erik stretched out on the reclining sofa. Both girl and dog joined him there soon enough.

"Want to get your mind off things? Like um…I don't know, watching a movie or T.V or something…", he trailed off awkwardly, eyes flickering. She nodded and smiled weakly.

"What I want right now is…ice cream. That is what girls do when we're sad, after all."

Erik smiled as well and Christine got up and headed to the kitchen, pausing a moment.

"Do you want some too? Or a drink or anything?", she offered. He nodded gratefully.

"Sure I'll take some ice cream too thanks."

"I only have chocolate", she added warningly, but he only grinned wider.

"I love chocolate."

Christine pushed a curl behind her ear, holding back a small chuckle as she disappeared into the kitchen. As he waited, he stroked the mutt who was now resting on his lap.

_Good memories with you boy. But all my extra tips from your "singing" just went to feeding you!, _he thought teasingly, as if Thunder could hear him. Hey, maybe he could…


	14. Accidents

**AN: Finally some fluff! Though awkward fluff….I'm going to have a sort of soundtrack to this whenever I finish the story, but I'll go ahead and tell you some of the songs. The song that Erik sang in French was inspired by "Il Parait" by Patrick Fiori. The lyrics don't necessarily go, but the tune does, at least to me.**

**Chapter 14**

Within a few hours, Raoul had traced the agency that sent him those "entertainers" only to find that whoever called for him came from a payphone. Cursing and pacing, he racked his brain for all of the people who could have done this.

_All of my friends know I have a serious girlfriend and would never do this to me. And all of her friends would especially never do that to her, even if they were jealous. I'm positive it couldn't be an address mistake…WHO THE HELL DID IT?! I just need to call her and explain. No, not tonight, she'll be too upset to see reason. Tomorrow then, I'll call her._

_////////_

"Alright pick a movie, any movie"

Avoiding the sad or romantic films, Erik eyed the DVD shelf, finally picking out a horror flick.

"Prom Night?", he suggested, looking at the summary on the back. It wasn't a slasher film, more like a psychological thriller. It would do.

"I haven't seen that movie in ages…I only watched it once—well part of it actually because I was busy and I never got around to seeing it….", Christine trailed off. "Sure, let's see that one."

With bowls of chocolate ice cream in their hands and Thunder at their feet, it was a comfortable atmosphere, even for watching a scary movie. What Erik hadn't realized in picking it out was that the killer in it was only a killer because he was obsessed with a girl, murdering everyone close to her so she would have no one to turn to but him. Before the big similarity hit him, he thought it was an idiodic method, but then the guilt crashed over him again.

_But my way of hurting to help is more subtle, anonymous, and most importantly, it WORKS., _he thought. His stomache wrenched when the twoo main teens had a repulsively sweet scene, but then again, Christine's insides hurt as well. Only her hurt was more directed towards her heart. Thankfully, the stabbing and screaming began yet again, sparing no one but the two watching it all happen.

Erik, being an expert on how horror flicks work, was surprised (and quite frankly happy) when the boyfriend ended up having his throat slit. Usually the main boy never dies—gets close, but never actually kicks the bucket. This made him expect the killer to live on with a "here we go again" sequel, but he was surprised again when the exact opposite happened.

Swallowing the last gulp of liquid chocolate, Christine casually stated her opinion on the film once it was over, setting her bowl to the side.

"I know murderers aren't exactly the same as a normal person but usually I can understand their motives a bit. This one I don't get at all. Especially when he almost killed the girl herself, I mean he supposedly loved her."

"Well I think he just got so used to killing that when she pissed him off, he automatically attacked. And as for the others, he sort of explains it himself in the interrogation." Erik replied casually. "I guess it was sort of a way of breaking her down so he could build her up again to love him."

"Then why didn't he just kidnap her and be done with it instead of going to all that trouble to kill people?"

"I suppose it was because those people would track him down and ruin it. Maybe he's bad at kidnapping", Erik shrugged, grinning teasingly. Christine couldn't help but smile too.

Hearing a low snoring sound, they looked down to see Thunder rolled on his back with his front paws up and his eyes closed in deep canine sleep. Christine glanced at the clock on the DVD player and tensed. It was almost eleven, but she didn't feel like sleeping or being alone. She waited for Erik to say he needed to get home because of some great excuse, but he didn't.

"Another movie?" he suggested to break the silence.

She sighed in relief and nodded, picking out another DVD to distract her from life.

//////

Christine slowly awoke to her shoulders and neck aching like they did when she slept in an uncomfortable position. Her mind sluggishly clearing, she realized there was something warm partially surrounding her, and it was alive.

Automatically thinking it was Thunder, she reached out blindly to stroke his fur, but only came in contact with skin—and it wasn't hers.

Eyes snapping open, she took in the strange view of thin, pale arms wrapped around her shoulders and waist, and the quiet sunlit living room. Underneath most of her torso was a black T-shirt covering a bony chest that gently rose and fell. Raising her head, Christine eyes proved what she suspected—she was half leaning on, half lying on ERIK. She froze as she looked on the unmasked side of his sleeping face, suddenly fearing that she'd awaken him.

_How did THIS happen?, _she demanded herself, trying to remember the last night. _We were watching a movie and I guess we fell asleep together by accident…but why was he over here in the first place? Oh God…that really happened?_

Christine felt like sobbing all over again as she remembered her discovery at Raoul's house but refrained, convincing herself that he wasn't worth crying about. So she just closed her eyes and rested. Soon enough, Erik had the same strange awakening, slowly realizing what happened and then becoming abslolutely ecstatic. He looked down at Christine's small form, still clad in her blue strapless dress and halfway lying on him. Furthermore, he found that his arms were already around her and that her eyes were closed. Sighing happily, he lightly stroked her hair, thinking her still asleep. Being so close to her, he could catch the faint scent of her brown ringlets, which was of vanilla and honey.

Christine had almost fallen back asleep when she felt Erik move and heard him quietly yawn.

"Hello", she said, raising her eyes to his. He smiled.

"Good morning."

Feeling rather weird now, Christine sat up, to Erik's disappointment, and rubbed her eyes.

"Must have been a boring movie…", she said, trying to make the fact that they had fallen asleep together a little less awkward.

"Must have."

Erik shifted out of his leaning position on the arm of the couch and sat up as well, rolling his skeletal shoulders. After sleeping on an air mattress most of his life, he was considerably less sore than Christine.

_I wish I could spend every night here, but I';m sure she feels rather awkward now…hell, I feel a little awkward. I'd better cover so she thinks I didn't do this on purpose—well I didn't but she might suspect me…._

"I'm sorry…I should have left earlier or kept myself awake. Um…well I guess I should leave now", he mumbled, keeping his eyes to the ground as he stood and shuffled to the door, hands in his pockets. Quickly, Christine got up and followed a few steps.

"No, it was just an accident…don't be sorry", she assured him as he opened the door to leave. He smiled faintly and nodded.

"Well I'm sure that I've overstayed my welcome all the same. See you next lesson. Goodbye.", he forced himself to say, a little apologetically. As soon as he closed the door, he shut his eyes and sighed.

_I can't believe that happened…I've never been that close to her or anyone for that matter…_

As he practically floated home, he imagined all the possibilities of the future.


	15. Painful Memories

**AN: Songs that match this chapter are: "Me Against the World" and "Welcome to My Life" by Simple Plan, "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace, and "Waking the Demon" by Bullet For My Valentine. From this you can probably assume the theme of this chapter….it is short, but I'll update fast, I promise.**

**Chapter 15**

_Yet another weird goodbye…Then again, the past few hours have been very unusual. _thought Christine. Suddenly the phone rang and she jumped to go answer it—until she saw the caller I.D. Eyes darkening with anger, she picked up the phone then slammed it down so that HE couldn't leave a message. The phone fell silent and she relaxed, but then it shrieked its annoying ring again.

"Ugh!"

Picking it up, she growled into the phone, "What?!"

"_Christine? Thanks for answering—listen, I think I found out what happened…"_

"Yeah you're a cheating jackass, that's what happened. I don't want your pathetic excuses, Raoul"

"_No I'm not, I swear it was a confusion or some sick prank by someone else. I promise I'd never—"_

"Just leave me alone!" With that, she hung up, and he didn't call back.

* * *

Raoul tiredly rubbed his temples and sighed.

_If she'd just listen for one minute…I've never done anything like this before to her, why doesn't she trust me? If I ever catch the bastard who did this…Ok, why would someone do this in the first place?_

Pacing his room he thought up all the reasons someone would intentionally set him up like that. He had already interrogated his friends, so he eliminated the idea that it was just a joke by someone who didn't know he had a girlfriend or didn't know she was coming over. Besides it WAS a call from a payphone. His personal affairs couldn't damage his place in his father's business, or his family. And if it were to ruin his job, whoever it was would send the girls to his office, not his house. So that only left the threatening thought that someone had done it to ruin his relationship—and it worked.

_Possible suspects: people who hate Christine, people who hate me, women who want to date me, and men who want to date her. But since women WERE the trap I doubt it was a female who set it….so most likely a man who either hates me, hates Christine…or wants her for himself. _

_//////////////////_

_Only a matter of time and luck now…she's single, she knows me, she's grateful for me, and we've had SOME physical contact. Now I suppose it's up to her…but I can still urge affection. Only problem with getting close to her is that she's bound to ask questions._

Erik dreaded the inevitable day when Christine would ask about the mask or find out where he really lived. She was being very kind, very friendly and open around him NOW but what of when she knew how ruined both his face and his lifestyle were? She might not care about the money; she could support herself and live without fancy gifts, but could she stand his appearance as well? He knew she wasn't shallow—she was better than that…but even the most understanding person in the world would flinch when they saw him. At least, that's what Erik was convinced was true. From his experience, no human was to be trusted….

"_Hey kid! Kid! Come're we wanna talk to you!" "It ain't Halloween—why're you dressed like mini-Zorro?" "Doesn't talk much eh? Must be a retard. Let's take off the mask and see if he's like cross-eyed or something". The gruff, mocking voices of the teenage boys surrounded the shirtless ragged twelve-year old as he felt air hit his face. "Holy shit man he's not a retard—he's a freak!" "God that's ugly…" Erik yelped as one shoved him to the asphalt ground, crying out again when one kicked him in the ribs. "That felt like kicking a sack of bones…ain't you got a momma to feed you?" "Who do you think put him on the streets?" The other boys thought this was immensely funny, and each had a kick, agreeing with the first one. Erik weakly tried to crawl away, but he was roughly pulled up by the back of his neck and shoved against a brick wall. "What do you want from me?" he croaked, turning his face away. One boy, with the smell of alcohol on him, grabbed the scrawny pre-teen's chin and turned his head to look at him. "We're bored, and need entertainment." Just as another one of the pack moved into punch him in the stomach, a small voice spoke. "Hey! What are you doing? Leave him alone, Tony!"_

_The one pinning Erik turned to the younger boy who protested. "Cody, I told you not to follow me! I swear if you don't eff off and keep your mouth shut…"The sharp click of a switchblade finished his sentence, and the kid swallowed and backed away, turning to sprint off again into the night. More hopeless and afraid than before, Erik went limp and closed his eyes, faking that he had blacked out. Beating up an unconscious person couldn't be nearly as "entertaining"…and plus, it had worked with opossums and other animals when threatened. For a moment, the teenagers looked confused, and then the one with the switchblade grinned wickedly._

"_I'll see if the little freak is really out…" he mused, the others eager and snickering. Erik willed every muscle in him not to move as he felt the cold tip of metal on his bare stomach. _Don't move, don't scream, Mother's cut you before, don't make a sound…you can do it…_he thought desperately, then the knife sliced into his flesh. It burned, it stung, it screamed in protest, but Erik kept himself paralyzed. It wasn't a deep cut at all, but if he didn't believe his life depended on his silence, he would have screamed bloody murder and jerked away._

"_Hm, guess he did. Pathetic…"growled the guy with the blade, cleaning it on his shirt then flipping it back into the handle. He abruptly released Erik, who crumpled to the ground in a small, bony heap._

"_Let's go, I hear a dog barking—the mutt will be more fun than that mutant was…" As their wicked laughter faded, young Erik opened his eyes and saw they were gone, finally allowing him to whimper in pain and cry from hopelessness. Then, he crawled away back to his warehouse, like a wounded animal back to its lair. _


	16. Raoul's Desperation

**AN: Soundtrack for this chapter is…Mission Impossible theme song! Maybe the Pink Panther one too…XD Also "Think Twice" by Eve 6. Oh and a very beloved character is FINALLY introduced in one of my stories! **

**Chapter 16**

When Christine returned from a long day at work, already cheered up by the tips she received, became even happier when she checked her email.

Hey Christine! Next week is the fourth of July so I've organized a sort of party at the Bay (West Point of course) I thought it would get your mind off things and the more the merrier so bring someone! Be prepared to spend all night there—it starts at nine and ends the next day! We have fireworks, by the way 

Love ya,

Meg

_Hm I haven't really been out in a while…what does she mean by bring someone? I just went through a breakup! Then again, she gets a new guy almost before she dumps the old one…and she could mean just a friend. Who would I bring? _

She thought of all her friends at work. There were plenty of guy friends, but they were either busy or would be weirded out if she asked.

_I guess I'll just have to disappoint her and come alone…wait a minute. Who is in more of a need of a life than me? Ha, it's so simple…I'll ask Erik, as a friend. Next time I see him…as a friend. _

////////

_God I feel like a stalker, but I have to know. Actually I'm not so much stalking as investigating. Then I'll hunt the REAL stalker down and give him what's coming to him. _

Raoul had called and emailed several trusted friends, delicately asking if they could get a job at where Christine worked and watch for people who looked either resentful or interested in her. Of course, they all replied with something along the lines of "I'm not stalking your girlfriend!" and hung up. Desperately, Raoul searched through the internet for special agencies with workers who got paid for following people. Since that was most likely illegal, he could only find one ad, for just one guy. The price was outrageous but apparently the man was a former FBI agent. Hesitantly, Chagny dialed the number.

"_Nadir Khan speaking"_, answered a tired, slightly accented male voice.

"Hello Mr. Khan, I saw your ad and was wondering if you could help me." Said Raoul as politely as possible.

"_Of course. What's the situation?"_

"Well I believe someone purposely made my girlfriend break up with me, as stupid as that sounds. See, I was going to propose to her that night, but just before my girl shows up, someone dumped about half a brothel on my front step. Of course, you can imagine what my girlfriend's reaction was. She won't listen to me and whoever did this needs to be caught", he explained. The other man sighed.

"_Did you call the brothel and trace the call?"_

"Yes actually. It was from a payphone."

"_Hm…whoever it is seems very clever or very poor. Possibly both." _mused Khan.

"Why is that?"

"_They may not own a phone or they may know that payphone calls cannot be traced, even to specific payphones."_

Raoul nodded to himself and then asked another question.

"So what do you recommend we do?"

"_There's only going to be a 'we' when you tell me what you'll pay."_

"Anything, I really need this."

"_Alright. I'll tell you the price when I'm finished. First I need to just watch wherever she lives for suspects outside of it. Then, where she works. The offender may only see her at her job or any organizations she's in." _said Khan in a grave tone.

"Well, she works at 'Provinos'—that Italian place off 280 —'Mellow Mushroom' and occasionally 'Rosemarie'."

"_What days?"_

"Uh…Provinos is Monday through Wednesday, Mellow Mushroom is Thursday through Saturday, and I don't really know about Rosemarie. Not Sundays though, of course."

Raoul heard a pencil scratching on the other line, then the detective spoke again.

"_Luckily I know where those places are. Now the last thing and most important detail—her name."_

"Christine Daae."

There was silence on the other line and Raoul asked if was still there. Slowly, the agent replied.

"_Yes I'm here…does the girl have a friend named Meg Giry?"_

"Yes, why?"

"_Meg is my girlfriend."_

_///////_

_When all is said_

_And done_

_And dead,_

_Does he_

_Love you_

_The way that I do?_

The cheap battery powered radio always had a way of picking ironic songs when Erik turned it on. He had developed a sort of "musicians block" even though he had an eventful few days, and bought a radio for ten bucks, (along with AA batteries) hoping it would inspire him. As he listened to "Think Twice" by Eve 6, he grinned, thinking about how upset that poor fool of a boy was now. How unused to disappointment such a fortunate man must be, how surprised that human Adonis was when he was brutally dumped….

Erik snickered to himself childishly as he imagined the blonde mourning over his ex, wondering how the hell this could happen to him.

_After she left, he probably took the whores up on their offers…all the better. I saved Christine from a horrible relationship anyway. Now all I need to do is put myself into his former place…_

The books and movies told Erik to 'just ask her out'. Ha—how well that would work out for a deformed, extremely poor man with no identity. He couldn't take her out, at least not anywhere especially nice, and if they were dating she'd at least expect to see his face…and then he'd be rejected. So he kept his slow and steady method of subtly making her more and more attached to him. Hopefully she'd make the first move, but it was unlikely.

_All I can do is wait until our next lesson._


	17. Invitation

**AN: Soundtrack—Mr. Brightside by the Killers**

**Chapter 17**

_I can't believe it…I have to monitor my girlfriend's best friend for potential stalkers._

The Persian man rubbed his temples tiredly and thought a while. Meg had talked a lot about her friend and he had once met her. She was very attractive and kindhearted, so Nadir figured that if someone had indeed made her believe that Chagny was cheating, it was not out of hate but love.

Meg had organized an Independence Day party at the beach that weekend—he could see if anyone had a particular interest in Christine. Contrary to popular belief, the offender was most likely NOT a creepy looking old man staring at her from afar (though of course, Nadir would look into that if it were the case). No, it could be any male friend she had, any overly nice stranger, or even her current boyfriend. The latter was the most dangerous, because if she had a new man already, and it was the one who had split her and Chagny up, then he had succeeded.

This is why Khan liked having his own business instead of working for the police. Much less rules, more interesting and desperate cases, and plus, more pay.

Christine sighed as she scurried from table to table, taking orders and refilling drinks. It was one of her better days working at "Rosemarie" but still, 'better' wasn't 'good'. She could survive on the tips and it wasn't too terrible of a job—well, jobs—but she was going to get a degree in music…before her father died and she couldn't do anything with that degree, even if she could afford the rest of college. All she really wanted was to save up enough to go back to the University and possibly get a good, sturdy job in an office or something. But lately, her old dream of singing was reawakened, the foggy fantasy becoming more vivid and full of life and colour as she thought of it more and more. Part of her mind snapped that it was childish and impractical, like the teenage boy's dream of making it to the NFL, but much more worth spending her life doing.

"Oi Christine! We got a customer asking for you!" called a nearby waiter. Raising a brow in confusion, the brunette strode over to the table the waiter was pointing out, not even setting down the glasses she was carrying.

_If this is Raoul, I swear I will dunk all of this water on his head then get the refiller in case he's still thirsty! _She silently snarled. But when she turned to see the guest, she nearly dropped her glass.

"Hi Erik—you just happen to show up at a lot of places I am, don't you?" she teased. He smiled and nodded.

"Well I felt like French food and I knew you worked here so…", he trailed off, shrugging. About a million thoughts went through Christine's mind before she settled on the simple idea that he liked her. She felt like a young teen again as she counted up all the 'signs'.

_If I ask him to this Fourth of July thing, it might give him hope…but what if I don't mind giving him hope? Of course I mind, I'm not interested in him, I just think he's a fascinating friend…I'm confused. _

"So what would you like to drink?", she asked, regaining her sense and character.

"Hm….just water, thanks.", he answered. Christine could tell he was trying to be cheap so she said quietly that he could order any drink he liked for free.

"Really? Wow…thank you. What's the best thing here? That's actually French, I mean. "

"Well personally, my favorite is the le Kir aperitif, but most customers like the coffee—"

"Le Kir it is then.", he cut her off, grinning. "I'll follow your recommendation, not other customers."

Pausing a moment in his quick decision, she nodded and headed off to the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

_Even with the drink, I'm going to be so broke after this…, _thought Erik. _But eating here, with her company, is worth the Spam and starvation of the next few weeks._

Smiling when Christine came back, he took the drink gratefully. It was minty and a bit tangy, yet mild. There was a sweet aftertaste to it.

The waitress glanced around, then sat across from Erik. He was already interested when she stayed with him, but then she asked him something more surprising.

"Are you doing anything on the fourth? My friend is having this party and I was wondering if you wanted to come."

"Uh…I'm free pretty much all the time…you mean go WITH you?", he nervously questioned, taken aback a little. Christine nodded and his heart leapt.

"Yes, as friends you know."

That last bit disappointed him, but not too badly.

"Of course, I'd love to go."

"Great—it's at West Point beach at nine P.M. Know where that is?"

"Mmhm, nice place", he answered and Christine thought a moment.

"You know, just come over around that time and I'll get my friend to pick us up so you wont have to go searching for us."

_Even better, _he thought happily and smiled.

"It's about time, I well, got a life." he joked and she suppressed a laugh, agreeing with him in her mind. He DID need to get out more.

"Just thought it'd be fun for you."

Suddenly, Anna, another waitress and friend of Christine called for her.

"What are you doing? Tables are waiting on you!"

"Crap…I forgot. Well, let me go tend to business and find out what your entrée will be."

With that, she hurried off, flying from table to table all over again. Erik sighed and closed his eyes.

_To you it might be as friends but to me it will be a date._

Christine hadn't responded to any phone call, email, text, message, or contact of any sort from Raoul. In fact, he even tried sending a good old fashioned letter. That didn't work either. And he couldn't just show up at the restaurants—she'd make a scene. He could only rely on Mr. Khan to sort things out. But even with that, he worried constantly, so much in fact, that his work suffered.

"You're going to have to get over her, man.", said one of his friends and co-workers, Zack. Looking up from the paperwork before him, Raoul turned to him with the same empty expression.

"Who said it was a girl that's my problem, let alone that I have one in the first place?", he demanded irritably. Zach rolled his eyes and leaned on the desk.

"You're messing up and falling behind on business, you never smile, I catch you staring off into space with this weird, sad look on your face…something's wrong and it's a girl. I thought I'd never see the day."

Raoul tiredly ran a hand through his golden hair and admitted, "Yeah it is. Happy? I'm trying, ok? Just let me get back to work"

The redheaded, slightly older man shook his head stubbornly.

"Oh no, tell me everything. I'll try to help you."

"What are you, the love guru?" Chagny groaned, turning away. Zach shrugged.

"Maybe. I might not have been nearly as popular with the ladies as you, but I'm familiar with the heartbreak."

"I wonder why…" Raoul muttered. Ignoring this, Zach went on.

"Tell me the situation and I bet I'll know what to do."

Turning back to him with an annoyed look, Raoul exhaled loudly and began his rant.

"Well I had the absolute perfect date ready and was going to PROPOSE to my girlfriend, Christine, when three hookers—that I did NOT call for and never would anyway—showed up at my door. Then, Christine came and well, what would you think? She ran off crying and I've been trying to track down whoever called and sent those women. No luck. So I resorted to getting a detective of sorts to pretty much stalk my ex and find out who wanted me and her to break up, and she won't respond to anything I send her and I can't talk to her in person, and I want her back, and I want to kill the son of a bitch who did this, and basically my life is falling apart. THAT'S what happened!"

Zach blinked a few times blankly as Raoul tried to catch his breath, then finally declared cheerily, "You're screwed."


	18. The Party Begins

**Chapter 18**

_Tonight's the night…_

This thought was the main thought in the minds of Nadir, Meg, Christine, and Erik, along with the countless other people going to the party. Khan tried to appear excited and normal as he and Meg got in his silver Lexus to go pick up Christine and her…friend.

_Whoever she brings could be an innocent date or secretly an admirer who's willing to fight dirty to get her. It could be as serious as a stalker or as trivial as a boy with a major crush on her. Chagny could be overreacting. Or not reacting enough. _

When they pulled up to the apartment complex, Meg found Christine and her date/friend sitting outside on a bench. Nadir couldn't see the other person until he was in the backseat.

_What on earth…_

"Hello I'm Nadir Khan—Meg's boyfriend." He greeted emotionlessly, still scanning the other man with his jade eyes. "It's not a um…costume party, you know."

Meg lightly shoved him in the arm for his rudeness and gave him a look that clearly said "Shut up, you idiot!"

"I know.", said the masked man in a clipped tone. "By the way, I'm Erik."

He thought grimly, _Erik, Christine's boyfriend. I wish…_

Khan nodded, now puzzling over the mask AND the lack of a last name said. Suspicious indeed. Christine looked away, feeling a little offended herself. She had wondered about the mask almost constantly, but she never said anything, figuring Erik would tell her what it was for when he wanted to. It WAS maddening, though.

As the Persian man pulled the car back onto the road, Erik started feeling like it was a bad idea to come. Christine was worth a lot of things but it would not be pleasant if he was humiliated in front of her.

"I love your dress, Christine", said Meg cheerily, turning to look at it. It was a light yellow sundress with loose short sleeves and aqua colored designs on it. The brunette smiled and returned the compliment about Meg's green halter top and skirt. Then the chattering began.

Meanwhile, the men stayed silent until Nadir chose to subtly start interrogating Erik.

"So what do you do? What is your profession?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a profession…I'm a street performer", Erik replied, a bit uncomfortable.

"What instrument?", asked Khan coolly.

"Violin—I sing too."

"Ah…interesting. Do you have any other occupation, or any in mind?"

Forgetting his lie of working at a fast food restaurant, Erik replied calmly, "No."

"What a simple lifestyle—not in a negative way of course." Khan covered, trying to gather as much information about Erik that he could. "I don't think you said your last name…"

"I don't have one.", Erik snapped, quickly changing the subject. Already he didn't like this man—what a nosy person. "And what's your job, might I ask?"

"I used to be a detective…"

_Ha, no wonder._

"…but now I'm enjoying early retirement."

_He can't be more than forty! Still, young for retirement, old for Meg., _thought Erik critically.

"How lucky", he commented. The rest of the drive to the beach was silent, save for Meg and Christine's excited babble. How women managed to say near fifty thousand words in one minute, Erik had no idea. Neither did Nadir.

Finally, the Lexus pulled up to the nearest parking lot to the bay. As the four stepped out on the sand, they could already hear the laughter of other celebrators. Meg had set up the tiki torches and stereo a few hours before she picked up her friend, and thankfully, no one had bothered her things.

When Nadir struggled with getting the fireworks from the trunk of the car, Erik hesitantly went over to help. From a glance at Christine, he knew he had earned a couple of brownie points with her, but also with Khan. As the ladies raced ahead to set up the music, Nadir thought up more important questions for Erik, in the girls' absence.

"So are you Christine's friend or…more than that?", he inquired, adjusting the fireworks in his arms as they walked. After a life of having no one to talk to about such things, Erik couldn't help but open up immediately, but felt idiotic and childish afterwards.

"I only wish I was more than that", he sighed, gazing off to where Christine was lighting the torches, the fire creating a glow around her face. Nadir nodded understandingly.

"She's single, isn't she?"

"Yes…"

"And she took you here with her—she's very available…", the Persian hinted, feeling very accomplished indeed with himself for getting so much information out of this possible suspect.

"I could never ask her, if that's what you mean.", said Erik, a bit sadly. As they set the firecrackers onto the sand near their other possessions, Nadir glanced at the mask again. Being a detective, his logical mind and insane curiosity worked together to think up possible reasons for it.

_It could be just for show, a strange sort of style…it could cover up something, perhaps a disfigurement that he's overly self conscious about—it can't be that bad. Or he could do it just to irritate people and make them wonder. In case of the second, I shall try to gain his trust into finding out—then possibly finding out if he ruined Chagny and Christine's relationship. He DOES fancy her, after all…_

"Please keep this between you and me", murmured Erik, looking down with shame. Nadir smiled.

"Of course. You can trust me."

"Thank you."

About then, Meg and Christine bounced over, and a car pulled up. Three guys and a girl, mutual friends of the two women, headed over and began talking with everyone. The only time Erik spoke was when Christine introduced him, and he just said a nonchalant "hello". It was already beginning to overwhelm him. He was actually at a party, with people he was expected to socialize with, and most importantly, he was with Christine. He felt so exposed. As more people arrived, one or two of them boldly asked what the mask was for, and everyone gave him a questioning look. He only glared back and said it was none of their damn business, until Christine covered for him by simply saying that he didn't want to say. This helped everyone else, but only made her curiosity stronger.

_This is worse than a homeschooled kid suddenly being dumped in a public school…, _observed Nadir pityingly, approaching Erik when Christine went to dance with some girlfriends.

"Whether it's true or not, you could always say that you're just eccentric or that you lost a bet", he advised. Erik's mismatched eyes flashed with anger a split second before cooling down.

"That's actually a pretty good idea. Thanks…", he trailed off, and Nadir nodded. Soon enough, some other guy asked what the mask was for, and he coolly recited that he had lost a bet. The boy grinned, said he understood because of some great gamble he hadn't won, then left as soon as he came.

"Hm. It worked.", Erik mused, and the Persian man chuckled. Just then, Meg's voice quieted everyone as she fixed up a microphone.

"Alright who's brave enough for karaoke?"

**AN: Oh dear. Please review, my lovelies.**


	19. Dance Lessons

**AN: Songs to this chappie…pretty much anything you find on a popular music radio station. **

**Chapter 19**

The small crowd of people cheered, hands raising everywhere. Then, Meg smiled and pointed a finger at Christine, who turned beet red and shook her head quickly.

"Aw come on Christine! Sing for us!", the blonde pouted. Jumping into action, Erik weaved through the maze of bodies and took Christine's arm.

"This is the chance you need! Go up there", he hissed, pulling her towards the microphone. She resisted stubbornly.

"Only if you go too."

He hesitated, then sighed in defeat.

"Alright, alright. Just come on!"

As the two pulled out in front of the people, Meg raised her brows, saying "Well looks like we have a duet! Pick a song."

After quietly discussing it a while, Erik took the mike and announced, "We're going to be singing 'Life Without You' by Kate Warner and Damon Richford."

Most of the crowd knew this song and cheered before slowly quieting as the music started from the speakers. Putting the microphone between them, Christine took a deep breath and began a little nervously.

"_I lived my life, I lived a lie…."_

"_I didn't know the reason why", _Erik sang softly, Christine chorusing with him right after.

"_Why I felt so empty inside…"_

The crowd whispered and shushed each other, mesmerized by the two beautiful voices entwining together in the warm summer air.

"_I was alone" _

"_I had no home"_

"_Always in my heart I was on my own…"_Christine sang, her voice growing stronger with her confidence and then Erik joined in again as they rose to the chorus of the song. By the time they reached this part, some couples were slow dancing to it. Erik and Christine looked at eachother smiling, then back to the crowd, her voice smooth and high, his rough and deep. When the song was finally over, everyone applauded and Meg took the mike back.

"Erik and my best friend, Christine, everyone!", she cheered, then the next singer came up to take their place. As the two exchanged congratulations and compliments, a large redheaded woman plowed her way to them.

"Oi you!", she called, getting their attention. "I'm Violet Chambers and I'm a talent scout of sorts. It's your lucky day and hopefully mine too because if I don't find some decent singers soon I'm going to be out of business."

Christine blinked and Erik raised his visible eyebrow. She was very forward wasn't she? Was this a joke?

"What, do you guys sing like angels but are mute like monks? Hello?", Violet impatiently asked. Erik coughed.

"A talent scout? Are you serious?"

"Yeah I'm serious. I don't joke around about stuff like that."

Christine gasped excitedly, "That's what we both need! A talent scout…gets our names out there…"

"Good, you're interested. Look, if you come up with a song or two within a week and burn it on a CD, I'll take it back and get it on the radio to try it out. If all goes well, you might get your own studio.", Violet explained quickly in her odd Yankee accent. She whipped out two cards and handed them to the singers. "Call me when you get some songs. Go for something that'll appeal to the teenagers but their parents as well. Just target every type of audience."

She was about to hurry on to hunt for more talents when Christine asked how she knew Meg.

"Oh I don't." Violet quipped, snickering. "I just came with my husband who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody else. That's the way things usually turn out at these sorts of things."

With that, she disappeared among the teens and college kids.

"Whoa.", they both said, and then laughed.

"We'll be on the radio!" Christine said, hardly believing their luck. She gave Erik a quick, happy hug, shocking him a second, then pulled at his hand.

"Come on, dance with me. Celebrate."

Both were surprised with her—Erik wondering why she was this way so soon and she wondering the same about herself—but played it cool.

"Ok but I'm warning you: I have never danced in my life."

"Funny, I've danced my whole life", she chuckled, already swaying to the music. "I'll teach you."

As he spent more and more precious seconds with Christine, Erik began to forget where he was and everyone around him. She showed him easy, universal moves that worked for any song, then did funny and more complicated stunts, just to show off. It was like being pulled out of someplace comfy and warm when the fast song ended. They waited and soon enough another song began, even more fast-paced than the other one. Erik smiled and with his boosted ego, he subtly got closer and closer to Christine as she continued showing him how to dance. She moved onto a spin, where she spun herself out by his hand and then came back facing him. However, he made his own little twist. When she came back, he stopped her midway and came close behind her. Mildly shocked, Christine made no move to slip away, and Erik gently pulled her against him by the waist, very tempted to hold her there and kiss her neck. Reluctantly though, he refrained and instead slid his hand down her side to her hand and spun her back around. All of this happened in just a few seconds. Soon enough, they began the dancing lesson again.

"Just a friend, eh?", Nadir mused from afar, he and Meg watching Erik and Christine. Meg giggled.

"Ah I thought something was going on. From what Christine tells me, he's rather 'friendly'. And she doesn't seem to be too distant of him either."

"I noticed. Does she know much more about him than we do?", Nadir mused, and the blonde bit her lip.

"I don't think so…he's kind of a mystery. I think that's what fascinates her."

_He could just be the sneaky caller…I don't see anyone else taking a special interest in Christine…, _thought Khan just before he was dragged off to dance.


	20. Christine's Company

**AN: I have finished this story in my rather large notebook, which has taken me TWO YEARS. That's a lot for my short attention span. But online, I'm not even halfway through. Bear with me.**

This went against everything Erik was used to. He sang with Christine, socialized with her friends, faced a bigger audience than ever before, and actually agreed to dance. Not to mention the talent scout and his somewhat forward move on Christine, which she did not reject.

_And now…a slow song. What do I do what do I do what do I do?!_ Erik thought in a panic, his previous bravery disappearing as soon as the terrifyingly romantic music began playing. He looked down at his and Christine's white feet against the whiter sand and felt quite stupid. She looked at him a bit shyly as well and stood there just as silently as everyone else started to dance.

_Come on, be a man for once_

"Want to um…teach me how to dance again?", he awkwardly asked with a faint smile and flickering eyes. Christine looked as if a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders and she nodded.

"Well first, you put your hand here..", she started, taking his palm and placing it just above her hip, then put hers on his shoulder. Their other hands joined and she led him in an easy sway. For a moment, they locked eyes and smiled, quickly glancing away.

Christine broke the silence and seriousness of it all by trying to teach him harder steps, which of course, he failed at. So they just laughed and continued in the sway.

_That's it. I may have had excuses and reasons for it before, but I've avoided it long enough. I am attracted to him as more than a friend. I know it, _Christine thought decidedly, then felt a little afraid. _But why? Maybe it's because I don't know much about him and he's nearly the opposite of Raoul in every way. But that's just it—I don't know anything about him, and he knows everything about me. I've never seen where he works or lives, or any friends or family of his….I haven't even seen his whole face. Maybe I can coax him to tell me more._

Hesitantly, she inched closer and rested her head lightly on his chest as the dance continued. He almost stopped in his tracks but instead sighed and smiled. When a few people looked over surprised, he couldn't help but look smug and held her tighter. With her in his arms like this, he became more possessive than usual, as well as proud of himself.

_She just might feel more than gratitude…maybe…I hope I'm that lucky._

As the song ended, the crowd began following each other towards the ocean, where a bright red light shot out in the night sky with a high shriek then exploded. Everyone cheered, and as another one fired, Erik led Christine to a better view on a sand dune. She sat down with her arms around her knees, and he did the same. While she watched the firecrackers in the air, he watched them reflect in her eyes.

"Hello lovers!", Meg's voice laughed from behind them. Nadir's arm was around her and he had a slight smile on his dark face.

"You having a good time?" he asked and Christine nodded. Erik replied affirmatively, a little irritated with the company but happy to show off his "prize". Of course he didn't think Christine herself was a trophy, but he was proud of the fact that he had earned a little affection from her. Copying Nadir, he loosely put his arm around his girl. She averted her eyes away from them all, blushing brighter than before.

"Well we were just making sure you were enjoying yourselves.", said Meg. She subtly winked at Christine before she and Khan walked back to the rest of the party.

_Lovers?_ , they thought, but said nothing, just went back to watching the fireworks over the bay. When the grand finale of red, white and blue faded away, a few people went back to their cars, though the party WAS until morning. Meg's parties usually lasted all night long. As the music started up again, Erik commented, "Those were very professional looking fireworks. Your friend did a good job."

Christine agree, looking at the majority of people dancing and a few sneaking off to nearby beach houses that they probably owned. She always wanted a house by the ocean. Also, she felt like sneaking off too, but to the waves. Instead of saying so, she gave a hint as to the future.

"I don't come to the Bay often…I'll have to come again."

Erik nodded, looking out at the distant moonlit sea. "Me too. It'd probably be good for business, with tourists and stuff."

Their small talk faded away and they just thought a while. Erik stood and helped Christine up, walking back to the party.

"It's going to be a long night. Might as well keep busy."

Just as he was thinking of what to do to entertain Christine, her attention was stolen away by a large group of women dragging her away to dance. She weakly waved at Erik, looking apologetic in her eyes yet laughing as she was hauled off by the girls. He sighed and found a place to sit and wait in solitude.

"That was quick, especially for you," giggled Anna, one of Christine's fellow waitress friends. The others agreed, already starting to dance a little.

"What was quick?"

"Your new boyfriend!", exclaimed another.

"Oh he's not my…"

"Yeah, yeah he is too. You were slow dancing with him."Anna cut her off. A blonde named Tiffany grinned, busting a move that made everyone laugh, then turned back to Christine.

"You're into him, right?"

"Yes…", she admitted, feeling like she was in high school, yet again being set up with guys.

"And he's obviously into you…", Tiffany commented. "We could see him staring at you and trying to get a bit touchy."

"He's staring NOW."

All of the girls glanced around excitedly, trying to see the topic of conversation—that is, except Christine, who hid behind the women, embarrassed even more.

"He's…eccentric, isn't he", mused Kat. The others murmured in agreement, sizing him up in their eyes. Then, they looked at Christine for an explanation.

"I don't know any more than you do, alright. He's kind of quiet about himself.", she said a bit curtly. Anna made a few guesses as to what the mask was for.

"Maybe he's in a cult and it's some sort of symbol."

Christine shrugged but said nothing.

"Or he's hiding something on his face---but people normally would get surgery for that if it were that bad…"mused Kat.

"People stare just as much at a mask as they would at any deformity, if not more. So what's the point?", someone argued, and the others agreed, deciding that this was not the case. When they fell silent a while, Christine tried to change the subject.

"He's teaching me how to sing, you know. He taught himself. He's extremely talented."

"Oh I know—his voice made me melt…and you were great too! I didn't even know you sang", Anna smiled. "Kudos on your courage."

"So…are we going to dance or what?", the blonde asked, just as a popular girl band song came on. Conversation was quickly forgotten.


	21. Nightfall

Chapter 20

Though he was alone, Erik enjoyed himself by watching Christine dance, usually silly moves to make the girls laugh but sometimes becoming quite graceful. Eventually, she pried herself away from her girlfriends and returned to him.

"I am so tired now…", she yawned, then smiled.

"No wonder. It's past midnight."¸he nodded, standing up and taking her hand.

"I can't find Meg or Nadir to get the car keys, so I found somewhere else for you", he said, leading her to the beach.

"Thank you..I really don't know how I thought I could stand to survive another few hours…"she said, then yawned again. He stopped and looked at her with concern.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

"No, no it's okay, I'm fine.", she said. He raised an eyebrow quizzically, and she smiled. "Alright, if you really want to…don't hurt yourself though."

Erik scoffed and picked her up easily. For his frail, thin frame, he was remarkably strong. Eyes widening in surprise, Christine held onto him for more security. He began walking again, with her cradled sleepily in his arms as they escaped the crowd. Finally, she spotted where he planned on putting her—a small boat landed near a beach house.

"Much nicer than sleeping on the sand, I'm sure", she said as he carefully lay her down. There were a few towels and thin jackets inside, padding the boat. Christine closed her eyes and sighed in relaxation, then tensed suddenly.

"Wait—where are you going to sleep?"

He leaned on the outside of the boat and rested an arm on its side.

"I'll stay out here. Tomorrow I'll sleep all day. I tend to be nocturnal anyway."

"You don't have to keep guard…"

He looked down at her as if she were an amusing yet endearing little child.

"Of course I do. It might surprise you what people will do—that is if there isn't a big scary thug like me guarding you", he teased, emphasizing his lack of muscle by flexing his pale toothpick arm. Christine quietly laughed and her eyes grew heavy again.

"Well, good night."

"'night."

After debating with himself for a while, Nadir finally called Chagny. Just when he thought the boy wouldn't pick up, he heard a groggy "_Hello?"_

"Mr. de Chagny? I think I have a pretty good suspect."

Raoul immediately sounded more alert.

"_So soon? Who is it, what is he like? Is Christine interested in him? Oh God, please tell me she's not…"_

"Slow down…he's only a suspect, I don't KNOW that he did it. Anyway, his name is Erik, I don't know his surname, and he's even told me that he likes your ex-girlfriend. And she um…she appears to be returning those feelings."Nadir said carefully. Of course, Raoul panicked.

"_WHAT?! It's only been three days and she's found someone else? Who IS this guy?"_

"If you mean his description, well…he's eccentric."

"_What do you mean, he's eccentric?",_demanded Chagny.

"He works as a street performer. He sings incredibly well and is apparently teaching Christine how to sing too. They did a duet at Meg's party tonight."

"_He's got her to sing again…",_ Raoul repeated dully, then groaned. "_And she invited him to the party, correct?"_

"I believe so. I'm sorry, Mr. de Chagny."

"_What does he look like?",_ asked Raoul, desperate to see what Christine apparently saw.

"Like I said, he's eccentric. He's extremely tall, pale, and thin—I mean, really skinny. Black hair, mismatched eyes…and um… he has a mask."

There was a pause.

"_Wait, what?"_

"A mask. Half of one on the right side of his face."

"_Is he in some sort of weird cult or something?"_

"No actually. At least, it's not likely. All I have are theories.", explained Khan.

Raoul sighed, "_What's your theory on why Christine likes him?"_

"Mainly he's gotten through to her with music—the lessons, his voice—and from what I've seen, he's really nice to her. And a bit shy."

"_Should I have hope?"_

"I'm an investigator, not a love adviser, but I think you have plenty of hope of winning Miss Daae back.", Khan encouraged him.. "Now, like I said, I don't KNOW Erik did it by any means, but I highly suspect he did. I will continue to gather information. If he indeed called and set up you up, what do you plan on doing?"

"_I'll kill him."_

Erik had entertained himself all night by watching Christine dream and staring out at the stars over the ocean. Finally, dawn broke, but no one at the party was awake. At least, that's what he thought.

"Good morning Erik. It seems everyone but us is still unconscious.", Nadir's voice greeted from afar. Erik turned to see the Persian approach the landed boat.

"Yeah I had to keep watch all night", he yawned in reply, glancing at the still sleeping Christine.

"How considerate of you. Meg and I nodded off in the sand, like most people did. Quite uncomfortable once we woke", joked Khan. Erik smiled and nodded, then yet again looked at Christine. Nadir took the hint and spoke softer.

"So…did you have a good time?"

Erik sighed happily, still watching his girl. "Mmhm. I did."

"Well good. I'll go get Meg up then.", said Khan, who then walked away, disappearing over a sand dune. At this point, a flock of seagulls noisily flew over, and Christine woke up slowly, squinting at the sun. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

"Wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it'd be", she said, looking up at Erik upside-down. "You actually stayed up all night long?"

"Yep.", he replied proudly. He helped her out of the makeshift bed. "Nadir and Meg are just getting up. Let's go catch them before they drive off without us."

They raced back to the car, dodging piles of passed out drunk lovers in the sand and laughing. Christine, being more experienced in running, beat him to the Lexus and whooped in victory. He acknowledged his defeat in a mock bow and soon enough, a slightly disheveled Meg and Nadir showed up, unlocking the car. Everyone got in and had a very chatty ride back to Christine's apartment.

"Where should we drop you off Erik?", asked Meg. He paused.

"Um…here. I'll walk home, thanks."

The other two drove off with a wave and he turned to Christine.

"You have to sing in the park with me sometime. You'll get more tips than waiting tables—and much more fun.", he suggested, smiling. She nodded.

"Alright…tomorrow then. At three."

They both seemed to agree with this and they parted ways with a shy wave, both knowing that their friendship had changed to more than just that for good. Also, they both knew that Erik REALLY needed a nap.

**AN: please please please review. My hands hurt XD**


	22. Secrets Revealed

**Chapter 22**

Christine finally found Erik on a bench near one of the most crowded lakes in the Golden Gate Park. "Ah hello again", she said, sitting next to him. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed to be dressed up a little.

_Ah it's for the crowd, not me; _he thought and returned her friendly greeting. Then, he scanned the area with his eyes.

"This is a place MADE for performances. Mainly old people, families, and tourists. Perfect, perfect…", he mused, looking at her again. "Do you have a song or shall I pick one for you?"

"Oh I have one. It's kind of old but it was kind of my theme song when I got into ballet," she replied with a smile, handing Erik some music she printed off. It was "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Anne Womack.

"One of the few songs I have heard on the radio. One of the few I actually like.", he said, reading over the music then practicing bits of the song on his violin. After a few minutes of this, he nodded. "Alright, I got it."

"That soon?" Christine asked, bewildered. He shrugged.

"I learn songs fast. I have no life but I have time", he teased. "Did you practice?"

"Of course. I even tried the diaphragm thing—I think I'm better at it now." He looked proud.

"Excellent. Alright, I'll just make up an intro to form a crowd. I'll cue you to sing," he said, starting up a slow, lovely melody. As if affected by hypnotism, people began to gather around one by one. Runners stopped to listen and children wandered over. Eventually Erik mouthed 'go' to Christine, and she softly began the song. Some people recognized Erik but were amazed by Christine. In fact, they got more than twice the usual amount of money than Erik earned alone. And when he joined in as a background voice, they really started tipping. At the end of the song, people applauded and demanded another song.

But before they even began what to sing next, a scraggly man in his fifties emerged from the crowd lazily. Erik spotted him and immediately became rigid—this guy, Joseph Buquet, had been trouble for him before. In his early days of performing, this drunkard had caught him maskless, and had relentlessly taunted him for it anytime they ran into each other. But before, it was never in front of a lot of people.

"Ah yes, the singing hobo—how talented he is", remarked Buquet sarcastically, mock-clapping as he approached Erik. "But the real show, ladies and gentlemen, is THIS!"

Before Erik could attack, or even move, or defend himself in anyway, the mask was yanked off and flung to the ground. Everyone gasped. A child screamed. He didn't really give a damn what THEY thought, just one person—Christine. It was over, all over. Everything he worked for was ruined in an instant. Not daring to look at her, he snatched his mask and violin, then ran. He ran as if for his life, until he blended into the stream of people on the sidewalk, where he caught his breath, mask safely back in place.

Meanwhile, Christine was horrified; more at the man who had revealed the secret rather than the secret itself, however. After Erik fled and everyone was left in disgust and shock (besides the laughing scumbag who had caused all of this) Christine stormed straight up to him and slapped his greasy face as hard as she could. Then, still enraged, but a bit more satisfied, she chased after Erik. She only saw a glimpse of him weaving in the crowd of pedestrians, then he disappeared. Determined, she went in that direction, pushing through people to catch up. Though once she finally saw the lanky figure in black, she was smart enough to shadow him from a distance. She wanted to see where his retreat was, where he lived. He was always so quiet about that subject as well. After struggling to follow his sudden zigzag patterns, he finally veered off to a building. Christine copied him, finding that he had gone into a run-down, abandoned warehouse.

_What would he go to a place like that for?_ She wondered, only approaching the door of the warehouse once he had gone inside. She carefully went in, stepping over rubbish and still confused out of her mind. Hearing footsteps, Christine made her way to the spiral staircase and quietly climbed them. The second floor was empty so she continued up, insanely curious as the messy, vast floors passed her, with still no signs of Erik. Finally, she arrived panting to the final floor.

_He HAS to be here…there's nowhere else for him to go unless he jumped—God forbid._

Alas, he was not there. Instead, an obvious living place was. Christine's jaw dropped and her brown eyes drank in the sight of books piled high to the dusty ceiling, a desk absolutely covered with papers which were covered in ink, stacks of folders, a radio, various random, small objects in a corner, and a messy air mattress with a violin tossed carelessly atop it, as well as a….mask.

_He LIVES here. He doesn't have a real job does he…my God, he's everything but homeless! And apparently, has been for some time…how could he keep all of this from me?_

Suddenly, she heard loud footsteps rushing down another set of steps that she hadn't noticed before—from the roof. Her gasp caught in her throat as Erik appeared. They both froze for a split second and then he immediately turned away, hands covering his face.

"You…you followed me?" he demanded, voice choking up. "It's bad enough what happened, just go and forget everything you saw, don't come to LOOK!"

"Erik, I'm sorry for following but I had to know. I didn't come to mock you or scream or whatever it is you think I'll do. I promise.", she swallowed. "Turn around and show your face. My thoughts of you won't change."

He hesitated, then shook his head, still facing the wall. Christine could hear his breathing was unnatural, as if he was trying to hold back from having a nervous breakdown. As if approaching a wounded animal, Christine stepped a little closer, lightly putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched away and she sighed.

"Please show me. It's less for me than for you. Do you really think I'm that shallow?"

"N-no…you're not shallow at all…you're…you're _perfect._ That's why you don't deserve to have to look at it", he stammered. She paused. Perfect?

"No one is perfect and I'm certainly not. Just accept yourself and I'll accept you. Please Erik."

He thought about this a while, then ever so slowly turned around. His hand was still covering his face and his eyes stayed to the ground, closing a moment.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I already got a glimpse of it, and like I said, it's for your own good, not my curiosity," she reassured him. He looked over her expression suspiciously but only found genuine honesty. So, he let his hand fall to his side.

Christine had to force herself to show no emotion as she took in the sight. From the bridge of his nose to the top of his forehead and the edge of his jaw was a mass of twisted flesh. It was every color from blood red to bone white, with the purplish blue of veins in some areas. His cheek was very sunken in, as was his yellow eye, and the right nostril was almost non-existent—up to the bone was a black hole on that side. It was incredible how concentrated it was; for once it hit his mouth and ear, the ruined skin faded into normal, pale skin.

Apparently, her best efforts to not appear shocked in any way failed, because he snarled and turned away again.

"I knew it! I knew you couldn't take it! You lied…you lied to me! No one can stand it, I can't even stand it—", and he started to rant furiously, when Christine stopped him by turning his head to look at her — with her hand on the disfigurement. His eyes widened, and he froze.

_She can actually TOUCH it? _he wondered, still caught completely off guard. Christine gazed over his features before settling on his eyes with an unfamiliar emotion. Then, before either of them could think on what was happening, she acted on instinct and kissed him

Erik went more rigid than he already was, and more shocked than he had been. It was like he was just imagining it again, like he did nearly every day. But this time, he could actually feel her lips softly pressed to his, with her hand gently holding his face and the other on his shoulder. Feeling dizzy now, he rested a palm on the wall behind him to prevent himself from staggering or even falling. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.

Christine had no idea what she was doing either, so she just did what felt right. She felt him practically turn to stone as soon as her lips touched his, but kept them there anyway. Eventually, his eyes rolled back and closed, giving into what he thought was a mere fantasy, and one of his hands shyly and hesitantly moved to her side, barely resting on her hip.

At last she pulled away to look at him again to find out the consequence of her bold action. Only then did Erik realize he hadn't taken a breath in quite a while, and he raggedly gasped for air, staring at her with mixed emotions.

"Now do you believe me?", she whispered and he swallowed, nodding. Smiling, she quickly kissed him again, then waited for him to come back to his senses. Finally, he spoke in a timid, soft voice.

"Can you also stand my other secret?"

She was puzzled for a moment but then realized what he meant and gazed around the room.

"Of course I can. Will you tell me how you came to live like this?", she asked carefully and he sighed.

"Well, one secret is the cause of another….I suppose I have nothing to hide from you now, so if it's my past you want…"  
She nodded earnestly so he began, a bit reluctantly.

"I don't know who my father was, like I've said before. Why? Because my so-called mother was a prostitute who hated me as if I were the Devil himself. She said I ruined her life, and reminded me of it daily. When I was about twelve I guess—I don't even know my own birthday—I had enough sense to run away. I started to survive by stealing things, until I realized that one of the things I stole, my violin, could earn money. I bought cheap books and just took expensive ones to pass the time and educate myself. So here I am, I'm guessing about in my late twenties, with half a name and half a face."

There was a brief silence, then Christine said, "How horrible…I'm sorry that happened to you."

He shrugged. "I think I live much better than any other person would in my situation. And for the past few months I've been a very happy man—and for the past few minutes, I've been THE happiest man alive."

Christine raised a brow in confusion.

"Why?"

A knowing smile was his only answer, then she smiled as well, looking down shyly.

"Thank you…", she murmured, making eye contact again. Suddenly a brilliant idea cam e to mind. "You know, I'm going to help you. When we get a song on the radio for that lady, we will be instant hits, I know it. I'll be out of my apartment, we'll have money…so, until that happens, would you like to come live with me? I know this sounds extremely forward, but I want to help you. You can't live like this. It wouldn't cost me much more, especially when we start getting a salary for singing…"

Realizing she was babbling, she shut up and let him respond.

"Christine, I've lived like this all my life, I'm fine. You really don't have to do that. I can survive with a simple life", he said. She shook her head, getting excited with all the possibilities.

"But there's so much more! It's really not a problem for me at all. I mean, if you just don't want to, it's fine, but don't worry about me."

He hesitated, looking around his home. He was attached to it and living with her would mean living in the place where his mother practically tortured him….but LIVING with Christine! She was willing for him to always be that close to her, to share everything with him, to trust him with it all…it was overwhelming. He had gone from losing everything to gaining everything he had ever wanted in only half an hour.

"If you're sure, of course I will."

Satisfied and happy, she hugged him, he hesitantly embracing her as well. Touch was still something he'd have to get used to, though he enjoyed it.

"Well, get all the stuff you'll want and I guess we can move you in today."

"Now?", he asked in surprise. She nodded.

"Is it too soon?"

"No no…I just thought…um…never mind."

With that, he began unsurely looking about the room for things he'd actually need. His books and music could stay there; he could always come back. However, his violin was absolutely necessary. As was his mask, whether she thought so or not.

"Um…where would I be sleeping?", he asked delicately.

"On the couch. If you sleep on it right, it's really comfortable", she said. Erik gathered his violin and the small stack of clothes he had, then remembered to put his mask back on. Christine looked disapprovingly at it but understood why he had it on again. It wasn't her, it was people.

"I guess this is really it.", he sighed. Feeling stupid but curious, she asked, "Just wondering, how do you bathe without a normal house? You don't smell so I'm sure you do somehow…."

"With a bar of soap on the roof when it rains."

She burst out laughing and he chuckled too.

"I'm serious—at least sometimes. Seeing as it hardly rains in California, I usually just sneak into a YMCA or something when no one's in the showers.", he explained. "And I take my clothes to a Laundromat, like most do here."

"Hm…you do have it all planned out then.", she mused, impressed at how he had made his life almost totally normal.

"Yeah..."

Taking the pile of dark clothing from him so he'd just have to carry his violin, she said "Well, guess we should be off."

"Guess so. Thank you."

"No problem"

So, Erik followed Christine down all the flights of stairs to the street, where she began talking again.

"I wonder how we'll sort out all the legalities with you. I mean, you've survived without any police or IRS people attacking you, but what of when you start getting a salary? I guess they could just pay me, then we'd split it, but still. You don't even have a last name or birth certificate to even prove—"

"—that I exist, I know. I'd like to keep it that way too, because I'm pretty sure it's illegal. I really don't want the government to find out about me", he cut her off worriedly. "If they did…I don't know what would happen. It would be so complicated."

"I'm sure you can't go to prison for just surviving. It's not your fault. You pay sales tax and you can lie about the stolen things. It was nothing big, right?"

"No, not really. The violin was probably the biggest thing", he said. For once, he actually felt afraid. "I'd owe so much income tax if they found out…not to mention all the issues with social security and records and all. I think I'm going to have to go from not existing at all to being dead."

"What?"

"I'm going to have to take the identity of a dead man"

Christine carefully thought about this and sighed.

"That's probably the easiest option. But so, so illegal…"

Erik looked at her with a determined light in his eyes.  
"I can pull it off. Trust me. And you won't get in trouble either.", he assured her. She bit her lip, deciding she trusted him, and he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders as they walked.

Once they got to the apartment, Christine took up the violin and clothes, and Erik headed to Beaumonte Cemetery.


	23. A Whole Life

Chapter 23

"I'm going to the graveyard and well…you know. I'll be back soon."

_Graveyard? Why does he need to go to a graveyard? ,_ thought Nadir, discreetly walking back to his car to follow Erik to the cemetery. He had been watching the apartment for a while before the man finally showed up there. Khan wondered why Christine had all that stuff with her. Was Erik moving in with her? Not a lot of items with them to bring in though…

When he reached the cemetery, Nadir parked and walked around the graves aimlessly before he stumbled upon the tomb of his wife. Stopping, he sadly looked on it, feeling a tear start to form in his jade-green eye. Though she had died nearly fifteen years ago, the love he had for her was still there.

The sound of muttering and trudging footsteps interrupted Nadir's silent mourning and he turned, seeing Erik pass tombstones, reading names aloud and totally unaware of Khan's presence.

"Victor Schlotzky? I think not. Harrison Red? No….Oglington Hoffworthy, HELL no…"

Amused, Nadir wandered over and made himself known with a small cough.

"Hello again Erik. Paying respects to the dead as well?", he asked and the frustrated man looked up, apparently more annoyed.

"No—I mean, yes. Yes I am.", he said curtly. Khan shook his head to himself, hiding a smile.

"To EVERYONE in the cemetery?"

Erik's eyes slanted in suspicion and he sighed irritably. "Maybe. Is it a crime?"

"No, but identity theft is."

The masked man became like the stones he was searching through and he turned paler than he already was. Just as he was about to bolt, he seemed to suddenly change his mind, becoming cool and calm again.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Khan."

"Oh but you do. You don't have a set job, you have no surname, I find you looking through a graveyard being picky about names…identity theft, with a reasonable motive", explained the older man smoothly and Erik swallowed. Nadir continued. "But why take a name you dislike and risk being caught when you can just…make one up?"

Hands flexing, Erik growled, "What do you mean?"

"I am a former FBI agent. I have the knowledge of such things and can easily create an identity for you. I'm offering to help you."

Nadir had rationalized in about two minutes that if Erik was going to be arrested for what he did to Raoul, misdemeanor though it was, he'd have enough problems without all the complications in his birth and proof of existence. Also, Khan had developed a pity for the young man, and admiration for his talents. It would be such a waste for it all to be thrown away. Being a former policeman, this went against his duty to help society, but his morals told him it was right.  
"Really? You'll help me? _Seriously?"_, Erik asked with disbelief, and the Persian nodded sincerely.

"In exchange for your total honesty in the future. And no more felonies."

Deciding that he was trustworthy, Erik held out his hand.

"Deal."

Khan gave him a firm shake in agreement then asked what last name he would like to take. Thinking a long time about this, Erik finally decided. "Noir."

"Alright, when would you want your birthday to be?", asked Nadir.

"October 31st 1984."

Khan raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Halloween?"

Shrugging, Erik replied with a smirk, "Fitting, don't you think?" Nadir smiled and pulled a notepad from his jacket pocket to write this down.

"That's all I need, really. I'll find you when I have your new social security number, educational background, birth certificate, and other information needed."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Khan"

"You're welcome, Mr. Noir."

And so, they parted ways, Nadir heading home to search for files and Erik going back to Christine's place to tell her the news

//////

"Seriously? Nadir is going to create an identity for you?"

"Yes. When he's finished I won't just be Erik. I'll be Erik Noir."

Christine smiled ear to ear, saying "That's great! One less thing we have to worry about, thank God."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable at the last bit but overall happy, Erik lightly kissed her forehead, holding her close. She held him as well, then let go in realization.

"We only have a few days to come up with a song", she said, looking worried all over again. Erik rolled his eyes and rubbed her back reassuringly.

"Child's play. I can create a song by tomorrow", he said, then added, "Which, of course you will help in. I'm sure that piece you sang for your father was entirely composed by you."

She smiled, eyes turned down. "I did."

"And you can play the piano too, correct?"

"Yes…"

Grinning excitedly, Erik could already imagine a beautiful duet with his violin and her piano in the background. People would love it. "Well come on then. I have a few brilliant lyrics in mind…"

//////

Nadir had just called Raoul and told him about Erik moving his stuff at Christine's house, but nothing more. This was the point in which Raoul snapped, hanging up and furiously storming to his Corvette to see it for himself. If he had been any less lucky, he would have gotten at least five speeding tickets as he flew to Christine's apartment.

_Somebody is in for one hell of a beat down. If this Khan person is lying, it's him who's going to have a fractured spine. If he's telling the truth and Erik really exists and is stealing my girl, oh man, he's DEAD._

He swerved into a parallel parking place, almost hitting a truck. Slamming the door behind him, he looked up at Christine's window. What he saw surprisingly calmed his fury and replaced it with deep sadness. Christine had her arms around a man, the one Khan described, and their lips were locked. It wasn't desperate, wild making out that WOULD make Raoul storm up there, but passionate yet sweet kissing. It was heartbreaking to see her like this. Unable to take it any longer, Raoul turned away and slowly got back into his car, closing his eyes with a long sigh before he drove back home.


	24. Music and Kisses

**Chapter 24**

**AN: FLUFF!**

"Well how about I play it like this then?"

"Mmhm…"

For the past few minutes, Christine had been struggling with the keyboard and Erik with getting her to kiss him again. Every so often, he'd kiss her cheek or head, or encourage affection otherwise. He didn't have the guts to do it himself and kiss her on the mouth, but he did have enough to hint at what he wanted. Either she didn't notice or she was ignoring him, because she'd just keep on with whatever she was doing.

"Okay I give up on the keyboard for now. I'll just practice my voice", she sighed, standing to stretch and prepare to sing. As she did, Erik slowly circled around her with a coy smile. She followed him with her eyes but stayed still, even as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her to his chest. Her song faded away into silence when he pressed his lips to her shoulder, hands on her abdomen. Shutting her eyes a moment and smiling, Christine turned her head a little towards his so that their faces were inches apart. Erik leaned in a bit and waited for her to cover the rest of the space. Slowly, she twisted her body around to face him and pulled his head down gently, taking his lips with hers.

Now more sure of himself in this area, he held her tight and confidently yet shyly kissed her back, going between gently touching lips to forcing response from her. Rational thought had long left him, and he begged for more and more in his mind and through his currently preoccupied mouth. His hands held her hips possessively and hers were on his shoulders, gently massaging them. He couldn't help but softly groan, and to his great disappointment, she broke the kiss, glowing red in the face.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of that, you know", he warned playfully. She smiled.

"Me neither."

Erik was going to take this as an invitation and kiss her yet again, but she pulled away from him, insisting that they'd have to finish that song.

"If we do, will I get a reward later?", he asked innocently. She only rolled her eyes and lightly pushed him in the arm.

"MAYBE." "I'll be a good boy…" "Erik!"

/

"_Unexpected _by Christine Daae and Erik Noir.", Christine read aloud as she signed the CD case. "You'll be such a hit."

"No, YOU'll be such a hit", insisted Erik, grinning. Just then, Christine's stomach growled and she laughed, a bit embarrassed.

"Dining in tonight. What would you prefer, seafood or Mexican?", she offered, striding to the kitchen, Erik automatically following.

"Seafood."

"Shrimp or salmon?"

"Shrimp."

"Pasta or rice?"

"Pasta."

"Alright, shrimp and pasta it is then. Oh, and what dessert?"  
"You."

Christine flipped around to find Erik inches away from her, smirking. Surprised, she tried to back away but was caught between him and the cabinet. He rested his palms on either side of her, now trapping her even more.

"You'll stop at nothing, will you?", she sighed but smiled. He shook his head and leaned in, boldly pressing his mouth over hers. His hands moved to hold her arms and he let his body move closer so that he was lightly pushing her against the wood. She responded, but not as enthusiastically as he would have hoped. So, he encouraged more passion into the kiss himself by gently trying to part her lips with his own. After a moment's hesitation, she gave in, allowing his inexperienced tongue to slip past her lips. Slowly, she joined in the exploration and tasted him as well as she ran her fingers through his black, shaggy hair. They had to reluctantly pull away and eventually came to their senses again.

"Um…we have to be fed.", she trailed off awkwardly, eyes averted as she started fetching ingredients and putting them together. Erik watched in fascination—he'd only had about three meals in his life that WEREN'T fast food and he'd never seen it cooked before (no access to TV cooking shows either). He was no expert on home cuisine but from the way it smelled he assumed that cooking was one of Christine's talents as well.

"Smells delicious." He commented as he watched. Christine smiled to herself but didn't look away from her work.

"Thanks you can help if you want"

"I'm pretty sure I'll ruin something if I do….I'm kind of accustomed to micro waved burgers handed to me in a bag", he joked and only then did she turn to make eye contact.

"Really? Then how do you stay that skinny?"

He shrugged. "I only eat when I have to and the cheapest things on the menu actually have the fewest calories. But why would you be wondering about my secret to being a toothpick when you're healthily so?"

She chuckled. He sounded like some health expert on TV.

"Just wondering…and I'll take that as a compliment.", she said, shifting her eyes back to the steaming shrimp and pasta. At this point, Thunder decided to arise from his hibernation in an armchair and charge into the kitchen, ignoring everything but the smell of meat. In doing so, he nearly knocked over Erik, who just laughed and stroked the giant creature. Christine, on the other hand, scolded Thunder and smacked him on the nose, pushing him out of the room.  
"Poor thing.", Erik said pityingly and Christine scoffed.

"Uh-huh, I'm just starving him."

At last she had two plates ready and put them on the small table that served as an all-purpose area. When she had seated herself, she clasped her hands and closed her eyes in silence. For a moment, Erik wondered what she was doing until he found that she was praying. He seated himself as well and by that time, she was finished.

"Do you belong to any religion, Erik?", Christine asked carefully yet casually, so it didn't appear to be threatening.

"No", he replied equally careful. Looking down, she took a sip of the water she had served herself.  
"Why, may I ask?"

He thought about this a while. It had been a long time since he had ever thought about theology.

"Well I wasn't raised in one, and I didn't really worry about it until I was older, where I just decided to be an atheist. There's so many lies about the world already and I don't want to sugarcoat it further with the thought that all the bad that's happened to me or anyone is a part of some great plan", he explained and she slowly nodded.

"Ah. That's understandable, I suppose", she replied, then said no more. Erik was surprised and relieved that she didn't immediately attempt to convert him. For once, he thought that maybe Christians and other religion followers weren't all hypocrites bent on conforming everyone, or at least Christine wasn't. She had changed his views on a lot of things without even trying—like love.

Thunder pawed at Erik's leg, looking up at him pleadingly with those big, brown and blue eyes. Erik glanced at Christine, who shook her head firmly. Silently apologizing to the mutt, Erik continued his meal, which was so far the best he'd ever had. When he was finished, he told Christine so.

"Wow, thank you. I think you'll change your mind once you have a taste of what others have to offer", she responded. He helped her clean up (or at least, attempted to) and then they wondered what to do next. So he began chasing her with words.

"How about that dessert?"

"Erik, _no."_

"Please?"

"You had your dessert before dinner—you stole it! No treat for you."

"Aw…"

"No wonder you get along with Thunder so well…whiner."

"Arf arf."

The chase eventually turned into a real one and Christine was the prey. Laughing, she eluded him several times in this child-like game before he disappeared.

"Erik? Erik…."

He was nowhere to be found. That is, until she was suddenly grabbed from behind, making her yelp.

"Haha, gotcha.", he smugly growled in Christine's ear, caging her in his arms. She only struggled a while before giving up with a sigh.

"I kind of regret kissing you now."

Mouth closer to her neck, he murmured, "Mmhm, I bet you do."

As she began her denial, he nuzzled her neck, not letting go just yet. At last, she let him have his second 'dessert', which he took quite greedily.

It was then that they forgot anyone could see them from the street.

/

"Erik. Erik, wake up!"

"Mm?"

Christine's voice combined with the sound of the radio slowly brought him to consciousness.

_Why am I on her couch? Oh…right. I live here now. I live here? I LIVE here! And yesterday actually happened..she saw my face—and then kissed me. She actually kissed me! And I got to kiss her again and again too…and we sent our song to the talent scout woman…and why am I hearing that song now?_

"Our song is on the radio! People are listening to us", Christine excitedly said, turning up her stereo. Sitting upright in a flash, Erik's jaw dropped as he heard the end result. It was amazing.

"Kind of strange hearing us on the air", mused Christine, sitting next to him.

"Yeah…"

When the song ended, the announcer on the station said "That was 'Unexpected' by Christine Daae and Erik Noir, everybody. They're fresh meat in the fight for fame" Another announcer laughed and added, "I think they'll make it big though. Their voices are incredible."

"No doubt about it, Rick. We'll see where their song lands on the charts. Now, the number one song of the week, 'I Swear' by Austin Cooper…."

Christine used the remote to turn off the radio and looked at Erik happily. She paused a moment before practically suffocating him with a hug.

"Violet's going to tell us the ratings at the end of the week", she said, voice muffled in his shirt. He smiled.

"Nadir's going to give me an identity by then as well."

"Life is good."

"Yes, life is good."

/


	25. Evidence

**Chapter 25**

"Life sucks."

Zach sighed as he saw the emotional wreck that was Raoul crash at his office cubicle.

"What happened now?" the redhead asked, for once actually pitying his overly-fortunate friend. Raoul lay his blonde head on his desk miserably.

"The guy I told you about….he's with my girl."

"Well, technically, she's not YOUR girl then…"

A pencil was chucked at Zach's skull, barely missing him. He shook his head and asked for more details, un-offended by Raoul's attack.

"I saw her making out with him." The young man sighed. Confused, Zach said, "Wait, how do you know it was THE guy?"

"Who else would break us up besides someone who wanted her for himself? And my agent says its him."

"Your…agent. _Really?"_

Zach burst into a fit of loud laughter that made other workers turn around. Hissing for him to shut up, Raoul threw another object at him, this time a large eraser.

"Sorry man, but seriously you have an AGENT for this? It's not like you were robbed or anything."

"But I was! He robbed me of her! And he's currently robbing her of reason and probably her innocence too!"

Zach went silent in humored disbelief then quietly spoke as if to a child having a tantrum.

"They have this thing called Prozac now…it'll really help you, okay? A nice padded room would help as well, and people in white coats…"  
"Now he's robbing me of my sanity?"

/

"I'm so late for work…can you take care of Thunder while I'm gone?", asked Christine as she hurried to get her heels and purse. Erik found it to be quite amusing how she was fussing over her appearance when to him, she was always gorgeous.

"Of course I can. I'll walk him for you too", he added, and she thanked him, giving a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before she rushed out of the apartment. Sighing, Erik looked down at the mutt who was staring sadly at the door.

"At least you have some sort of company—me", he said to Thunder. The dog turned his eyes on him and whined, then padded off to the kitchen.  
"Of course. Food.", Erik sighed. "Is it how you cope with doggy depression or something?"

Thunder only pawed at his empty bowl.

So Erik spent his time feeding Thunder, walking him—well, chasing, actually—and watching mindless daytime T.V as he waited for Christine to show up. Then, around two o'clock, the doorbell rang. Puzzled, Erik looked through the peephole in the door and gasped loudly, before covering his mouth.

_Ohhhh shit…Chagny! Ok, ok, no one's here, just wait for him to leave._

The door shook when Raoul hit it with his fist on the other side.

"Christine, come out. I need to talk to you!" Another pound on wood. "Christine!"

There was a moment of silence, and then Raoul's muffled voice mused, "Or is it…Erik?"

The masked man's eyes went wide and he went paler than he already was. How the hell did he find out?

"I know what you did, you bastard. As soon as I find enough evidence to prove it to Christine, she'll know too", snarled the other man. "Open the door, coward!"

Every fiber of his being wanted to go out there and strangle the boy, or at least yell back, but Erik knew that if he did, Raoul could have the evidence he needed to rat on him. Or, he could get thrown in jail for assault then face bigger problems with his unfinished identity.

Finally, Raoul stopped throwing himself against the door and seemed to fall back, panting.

"Have it your way then. Next time I see you, you're dead. And Christine will hate you. Hear that? She will HATE you."

That last part stung much more than any other threat Chagny could come up with and Erik swallowed. He hoped with all his soul that wouldn't happen. But if the boy wanted to fight dirty, oh, he could dish it right back.

/

Erik never told Christine about Raoul's little visit and for the next few days they had the same routine: wake up, Christine would go to work, Erik would take care of Thunder like a stay at home mom and (cautiously, for fear of Raoul unexpectedly attacking him) occasionally even earn cash in his old way. When Christine would come home, they'd listen for news of their song on the radio and talk for hours. Despite all this repetition, Erik couldn't imagine being happier if he was a billionaire.

One day, another knock on the door startled this continuous cycle of life. This time, it was Nadir.

"I have the information", he announced to the couple with an accomplished smile, holding a folder up.

_I'm almost a normal man now. I have records, fake though they may be. I EXIST, _Erik thought¸ taking the folder carefully, as if it were the Holy Grail. Christine held onto his arm excitedly, almost as happy as he was. They thanked Khan over and over, Christine once even giving him a half-hug of gratitude. This shot Erik a pang of jealousy, but Nadir's calm expression assured him of what common sense told.

"Remember, do not tell anyone of this, as dumb as it sounds, you might slip up. This is strictly confidential. I can assure you that the only way the government or anyone else could find out about this is if somebody told. And if that happened, we'd all go to prison for assisting in identity fraud", Nadir said, killing the mood but giving a necessary warning. "I suggest you look through the past I have made for you in case anyone questions you. For now, I got to run—Meg's waiting."

As soon as Nadir left, Erik sat down and began filing through the folder, Christine reading it alongside him.

_Erik Noir, born 1984, October 31__st__, 12:15 AM. Mother—unknown, Father—unknown. Raised at St. Mary's orphanage until 18, never adopted. Attended and graduated from Turner High School with all A's. Took band and extracurricular activities involving music. Was employed at several restaurants and stores as a waiter and cashier. Currently unemployed., _Erik silently summarized all the records. Turning to Christine, he commented, "Wish he could have made a college degree for me too"

"Yeah, like you'll need one", scoffed Christine. Over the week, Erik had subtly shown off his incredible intellect, trying to further impress her. "Besides, once we get enough money from singing, you'll have more than enough money to go…and so will I."

"You never went?"

"I never graduated. Father died, and even with everything left to me, I couldn't afford the rest of it. And when he died, I sort of did too", she explained with a sigh. Shifting his eyes, Erik quietly apologized.

Christine's mood lightened again when she remembered how much her life had improved since then. And all because of Erik.  
"But now…I would always be in dead-end jobs with no future and hardly a life if it weren't for you", she said, leaning on him a little. This show of thanks pleased Erik immensely, and he looked down at her with an adoring smile.

"I would say the same for you, but you've done so much more for me."

Eyes lifting to his, she asked what exactly she'd done. He explained as he absentmindedly stroked her hair.

"Well, all the things you've said only multiplied by infinity….you've given me hope and acceptance, you've been almost overly generous with me, you've been very kind, you're the only person who has looked at my face without fear or disgust….my first and only kisses have been with you…you've given me all I ever wanted, which was yourself."

As she heard this list, Christine became not only flattered, but in awe. Where was his script? This HAD to have been planned. The last part surprised her, and she said, "All you ever wanted? Really?"

Erik drew her closer, closed his eyes a moment and spoke in a murmur. "All I ever wanted, yes. Before I knew someone like you could even exist, I wanted there to be a person as accepting and good as you are. And later, I wished specifically for a woman to accept and possibly even l—well, return the feelings I had for her. Then I heard you sing and I knew that you were that woman who I thought couldn't exist, only better. Now, I don't think of you as a last resort or a checklist or anything like that. All the women in the world could love me but it would still be you that I picked."

Christine pulled herself as tightly as she could to Erik and sighed happily. She had heard this sort of stuff before, but now she sensed he was genuine. He was too perfect. Maybe he was secretly an angel…she almost chuckled to herself a loud—her father told her stories involving angels often when she was little. Before, she sort of doubted herself about letting Erik live with her so soon, but with that, a lot of good things came quick. Like what he said next.

"I love you."

Looking up at him, Christine searched his face with her eyes. Half of his expression proved what he said, but for her to fully believe him, he had to fully trust her. So, slowly, to give him a fair warning, she reached to remove the mask. He stopped her suddenly, by leaning his head away from her.

"Please don't…it'll ruin things."

Christine shook her head, turned his face back to her gently and took the edge of the mask in her fingertips.

'If you love me, you'll trust me. Need I remind you of when I saw it first?"

Immediately thinking of the kiss, Erik surprised himself by smiling. "Oh, yes you do need to remind me."

She, understanding what he meant, smiled back and finally pulled the mask away, moving in closer to his lips. He crossed the small distance and their lips came together gently. Purposely ending it a little too soon, Christine whispered shyly, "I love you too."

Erik thought he'd never hear her say that. A deep joy passed through him and he kissed her again, holding her as securely as possible, afraid she'd disappear before his eyes. She responded to him slowly, moving herself up to his lap for comfort and so to kiss him deeper. Eventually, he built up so much passion that he had to pull away to control himself. So instead, he began softly pressing his lips to her forehead, jaw, cheeks, and even a feather-like touch to her nose, which made her smile. He trailed kisses down her neck very slowly and she shivered before he moved to her shoulder. Moving her fingertips in small circles on his back, Christine gave him a last quick yet sweet kiss on the lips before she slid off him again, quite content. He was as well—then again, anytime she was there, he was more than happy.

/

Raoul paced his room with his cell phone to his ear, impatient for Khan to pick up. Finally, the agent answered, and Raoul presented his request.

"I need evidence that Erik did it."

"_What, you don't believe me?"_

"Of course I believe you, its Christine who'll need convincing", he explained quickly. The Persian thought a moment.

"_The only thing we could do is tell her why we have this reasonable suspicion—motives and such. Or a confession from him….that's more possible than you might think. He's quite honest with me. Or…somehow getting a voice recording of that call…"_

Eager at the last option, Raoul asked how that could take place.

"_Well I'd go to the brothel and try to find a manager and make her believe I'm still an FBI agent. Then, I could just find the record of a call with the approximate date and Erik's voice on it. If you've ever heard it, it's unmistakable."_

"Please, can you do that for me?", begged Chagny, desperate for justice.

"_Of course, but it might take a few weeks."_

"Why so long?"

"_I do have a life and other matters to attend to."_

Raoul was taken aback by this irritated comeback but he replied respectfully.

"Of course you do. Just send me the tape or whatever by mail then, sir."

"_For an extra thousand dollars, I will do so."_

Gritting his teeth, Raoul said that he'd pay whatever it took, then hung up.


	26. Lights

**AN: Thank you for all your reviews, yet again **

_Bri-i-i-ng! Bri-i-i-i-ng!_

"Can you get it, please?" Christine called to Erik, having just gotten out of the shower.

"Yeah", he called back as he picked up the phone with a "Hello?"

"_Yes, this is Violet Chambers, is this Erik?"_

"Yeah—listen, thank you so much for putting our song on the radio. Christine and I are extremely happy…."

"_Your song was the fourth most popular on the charts. My boss wants another one, fast. Try to make it appealing to the youngin's"_

"Oh, will do ma'am. Thank you again…."

"_You'll get a check by Monday for I think about 200 bucks. That's extreme for a first song, but it'll only get better. Okay, that's all I needed to tell ya. Bye."_  
When she hung up, Erik whooped with joy and forgetting how preoccupied Christine was, he ran to tell her.

"Christine! They love us! They want another song and—oh wow. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry…", he stammered when he found her rushing to wrap a towel around herself. Quickly turning away, he continued apologizing but she just laughed, though a bit nervously.

"Um…it's ok, really…they liked us?"

Still looking away, he nodded.

"We're getting a 200 dollar check Monday."

Christine almost dropped the towel she was clutching to herself but stopped just in time.

"That much for one song?"

"Yep."

She paused with a swallow. "Wow."

Catching a sly glimpse of her reflection in a hand mirror at the sink, Erik sighed, "Yeah…wow."

_All I have to do is turn around and slip of f that towel…._

He inwardly slapped himself and hurried out of the bathroom, telling her that he'd let her change now. After he was out of her sight, he really did slap himself. Repeatedly. Only until Christine came out and asked what on earth he was doing did he stop and turn to see her, muttering "oh, nothing…". She had on a blue and white striped tank top with a white skirt that came just above her knees. Blue flats perfected the look. But it was late to be dressed that way unless….

"Come on, let's celebrate—we have money for a date that isn't set here."

He was a bit surprised but liked how spontaneous she was.

"Okay, where to?" he asked, feeling a little embarrassed that he didn't look half as nice as she did. Christine shrugged.  
"I don't know…let's just see where the night takes us."

Smiling, he replied, "Sounds good to me", and they were off.

/

_I'm not two faced. I'm just doing my job and helping people…the people just happen to hate each other, _thought Nadir, arguing with himself as he went through the paperwork of other cases he was in. _Raoul de Chagny is paying me extreme amounts to get his girlfriend back and I have to get closer to Erik to help Chagny. And if Chagny does anything about Erik that gets to the officials, the poor man will have enough problems without help in his identity. I feel sorry for them both but most of all, I pity Christine. She's completely oblivious to all this. I hope Erik doesn't find out that I helped Raoul catch him…Allah, so many lies and secrets!_

"Hun, you almost finished?" Meg's voice called. "Give yourself a break, you seriously need one."

_Yes, I do need a break. But these psychotic people won't leave my head alone!_

_/_

"When we're rich", Erik started jokingly as he walked with Christine. "Let's remember to go there."

She saw where he was pointing and exclaimed, "The San Francisco Opera? I've been wanting to go for years!"

"So have I", he mused, looking at the magnificent building. "I tried to sneak in once, like I do at the movies, and uh…I was thrown out rather quickly. I think I was about fourteen."

Christine couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, when we are rich and famous and the idols of musicians everywhere, we shall indeed go there."

Then, Erik's eyes lit up. "While we're poor and unknown, how about a trip that's free?"

"Okay…what?"

"Just follow me", he said, walking faster, Christine having to struggle to keep up. Eventually he turned down an alley to another street, which was much less crowded.

"Well, it's not exactly free but it's cheaper than a circus.", he joked as she looked around at all the people trying to earn money like Erik did. There were not only musicians, but people dancing, others showing off strange talents like juggling spoons or chugging a gallon of booze.

"They actually expect to make money like that?", asked Christine, watching a man attempt to balance random objects on his head. Erik shrugged.

"You'd be surprised…"

There were also less extreme versions of freaks you might see on "Ripley's Believe it or Not", like a girl who seemed made of rubber and bent every which way. Also, there was a magician that amused Christine by classic disappearing acts and floating objects. She, of course, tipped generously. Erik felt like killing the mood by spoiling the secret, but she seemed to entertained to ruin it. Also, there were people who just begged.

Upon seeing more people who tried earning money (with strange features that they had, such as extra toes or simply looking pitiful) Christine put two and two together in her mind and turned to Erik.

"Have you um…ever performed here?"

He immediately looked down, knowing this would come.

"Yes, but not with my violin. And not voluntarily either."

"Did…did someone force you to show—"

"Yes.", he said bluntly, then gazed around. "But everyone here is less lucky than me…"

He passed an old woman with a pan and dropped a dollar in it. Christine admired this, especially since he was so close to the poor wretch's state before. Feeling the need to lighten the atmosphere, Erik led her down the street to another alley, which was entirely deserted. There was a pile of broken bottles, and a burnt down candle with a matchbox.

Christine looked confused and Erik grinned.

"This can be art, you know..", he said, appearing a bit too excited as he started randomly arranging shards of glass. "Beautiful art…"

"It's broken bottles, Erik. I can't see garbage as being…", she trailed off then gasped when he lit the candle in the middle of all the glass. The dark alley seemed to explode with color once Erik stepped away. Flickering from the candle shone through and reflected off the different colored shards, creating moving light on the walls of the alley. It actually was beautiful.

"Wow…", she whispered to herself. Standing next to her, Erik nodded.

"I thought you'd like it."

She murmured that she did as she admired the light show. Erik moved nearer and sighed. Thinking over the past week, Christine had come to expect the unexpected with Erik. He was so…different. Before, he was terrified of even getting too close to her but after she'd kissed him, he was always hunting her down to steal another one. He could have his dark times without taking it out on her, and he was very genuine with everything. Not to mention how incredible it was that he was practically a genius without any legal schooling. And of course, the voice could not be ignored.

As far as she knew, he was perfect for her. Little did she know that Erik's life was full of more secrets, much more serious than the ones she had already discovered.

/

It had been about twenty minutes since Christine had said goodnight, leaving Erik on the couch with a blanket as she went to go to her own bed. Even Thunder was curled up at her feet, fast asleep. Erik, however, was quite alert and stared blankly at the DVD player's clock, reliving the past heavenly week with Christine. The only thing he desired at the moment was to be laying next to her. They had already moved incredibly fast with everything in their relationship, from her kiss to his "I love you". Despite this, he just wanted more, more, more. His greed was shameful, especially since he had only gotten this by foul play. Yet once his feet hit the hardwood floor, he couldn't stop himself from padding in the direction of her bedroom.

_I just want to see her…_

When he got to her door, he carefully pushed it open, inch by inch. Eventually it was wide enough for his bony body to get through, and he slipped inside the room like a shadow. As he silently approached the bed, he noticed another breathing creature at the foot of it. Thunder. He took extra precaution in making his way over to Christine, then knelt beside the bed. Reaching up with some hesitation, he grasped the top of the covers that she had buried herself in so cozily. Then, he gently lifted the sheet and pulled it down just past Christine's shoulder. When she shivered, Erik ducked and his stomach hit the floor under the bed in a split second.

_I woke her up, I woke her up agh!_ He thought in panic, but all was silent. Slowly, he slid out and peered over at her again.

_Sound asleep._

Erik gazed over her pale, relaxed face with an almost worshipful expression. He dared to risk touching her by lightly brushing a curl from over her eyes, then softly sighed.

_I wonder what she's dreaming about…_

What Christine was dreaming about was HIM, actually. Visions of becoming famous with him, the sound of his voice…it wasn't so different from her daydreams. If only Erik knew this…Quietly, he began to hum a smooth melody whilst watching her. This sound seeped into Christine's mind and subconscious, gently waking her. Listening intently, her eyes only opened little enough to see Erik but not alert him that she was awake.

_What is he doing here? Is…is that a lullaby? It's beautiful…,_ she thought drowsily, still half asleep. Soon enough, the humming which woke her gave her back to her dreams, and everything faded away once more.


	27. Questions

**Chapter 27**

The two hundred dollar check came in the mail along with a short letter by the music company that basically repeated what Violet had said—they needed another song, and fast.

Within a few weeks, the couple had sent in another CD with about six tracks on it, all equally as successful as the first song. By that time, they were already talked about by the public (not widely known, but familiar to almost half the population of San Francisco), and had their own studio for recording music. Every time a song was produced, their salary increased. Finally they were invited to talk live on the air with the 91.7 host, Rick Parham.

Needless to say, they were a bit nervous when they stepped inside the radio room. Rick, a bulky middle aged man with grey hair, came up and shook their hands eagerly.

"Great to meet you both, Miss Daae, Mr. Noir. Ah, you have a trademark sign already. I like it.", he said, hooking up headsets for them. Both Erik and Christine were puzzled until it finally hit them what the "trademark sign" was. The mask.

"Live in 3, 2, 1…", a nearby boy counted down, then Rick began to speak in his full announcers voice. "Back with 91.7 The Fox, I'm Rick Parham and as you know, San Fran is talking about two great new talents…welcome Erik Noir and Christine Daae"

Christine took her que and thanked him, Erik copying her.

"So", Rick began. "What got you two started in the music business?"

"Well, we sang at a party and this talent scout just gave us her card", the masked one answered.

"Yes, thank you Violet, if you're listening", added Christine and Mr. Parham continued.

"You two have some of the best voices I've ever heard. Is it just talent or were you trained since childhood?"

Christine was quick to brag on her partner. "Erik taught me, actually. I had lessons years ago but that hardly counts. He got me interested in singing again."

"Really? And who taught him?"

"No one. I taught myself."

Rick was impressed. "You are accomplished, eh? Hm…so are you two just partners, or…"

This time, Erik was the boastful one, to Christine's surprise. "Oh, she's all mine."

Christine couldn't help but smile along with Parham.

"Congrats to you, son", he commented. "How did you meet?"

"Funny story, actually", said the girl. "I lost my dog, as hard as it is to lose him…."

"He's massive."

"—and Erik found him and returned him to me.", she finished, throwing him an almost adoring look. Across panels of flashing lights and wires, the host grinned even wider.

"Well that's sweet…so tell me about the mask."

They both paused awkwardly, and Christine jumped to save them both.

"It's a trademark symbol."

"Like Michael Jackson's sequined glove?" Parham joked.

"Mmhm, it um…represents…the uh…" she struggled, looking at Erik for help. He filled in the sentence.  
"How people only show part of their true selves. See it was a bit sweaty to wear a whole one…", he explained with silent surprise at his own quick thinking and ability to act casual about such a touchy subject.

"Ah. Great thoughts, brilliant. I'm sure it'll look unique on an album cover. Sold any yet?"

Christine said, "No, not yet. We haven't even thought about selling albums, believe it or not…"

"We will soon, though", Erik chimed in. He gave a discrete wink at the brunette beside him. Rick cleared his throat.

"Excellent. The people really like you, and so do I. Hope to hear more from you. Now, for one of their songs, 'Frozen'…."

At that, they were excused, lots of men and women shaking their hands on the way out.

"Aren't you so excited?". Christine couldn't help but squeal childishly, and Erik laughed.

"You have no idea. We'd better get on to the album that everyone wants so badly…"

Both of them were still getting used to the idea that people actually listened to them, that they were so close to fame. It was unbelievable. Within only a few weeks, they had gone from nameless-nobodies to the up and coming stars of the music world.

When the taxi dropped them off at the apartment, Christine stopped at every floor up to kiss Erik quickly, then continue to race him upstairs. Once they were inside, she gently held his face and reached to kiss him slower and deeper. His pulse hastened and he pulled her closer to him.

_She's so flawless, so beautiful…how can she be mine? _He thought, running his fingers through her soft curls and down her back. She pulled away with a small smile, sighing a little as if finished. He grinned, feeling especially wicked at the moment, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'm not done with you yet". She closed her eyes again for a moment and he boldly started trailing hot kisses down her neck. Neither of them were thinking much, just feeling. And feeling pretty good, at that. Christine leaned against the door, Erik making a low, soft noise into her throat while holding her by the hips. She pushed him back a little to catch her breath before she brought her mouth on his passionately. Feeling like melting right there, he eagerly kissed her back. Somehow, in the process, they had moved from the door to the couch, sinking slowly down on it until Christine was nearly on her back.

_Don't let it end don't let it end, _they both thought, just as their hands started to wander. But alas, it would end, for Thunder, thinking his mistress was being attacked, barked the bark that gave him his name. The magic fled like a startled animal, and the two suddenly pulled away, bewildered at the compromising position they were in. Erik, guilty and wanting to slap himself, quickly scrambled off of Christine, who was now bright red in the face.

"Thunder, its ok. Hush", she assured the dog quietly. He did quit barking but growled at Erik before stalking off to the 'extra' room. Erik and Christine shyly kept their eyes away from each other like young teenagers might, as they waited for their faces to cool and their hearts to slow.

/

Exotic music snaked through the air as Nadir approached "For Your Entertainment"

_I hope Meg doesn't find me. She'd never understand the real reason I'm here…._

"Excuse me ma'am", he coughed, seeing an older woman drowned in strong perfume who appeared to be the madam. "I'm Nadir Khan and I need a few questions answered."

She looked him up and down but before she spoke to make him an offer, he shook his head.

"No, I'm not a…a client. I'm an investigator."

"Oh.", she said, looking a bit scared. "Um…follow me and I'll see if I can help you". She lead him through the hazy crowd of topless girls and bedraggled, desperate men. Finally Khan and the madam reached her office.

"I need to hear all the recorded calls here from a month ago", he stated simply. The middle aged woman blinked.

"Those are confidential"

"Someone set up my client by calling here and it's the only way to prove him guilty", he sighed patiently.

"Oh. Very well then…"

She lead him to a desk where a phone lay, with several tapes beside it.

"We always record our calls, just in case something like this happens or if one of the girls gets hurt", said the woman, filing through the tapes. "There's about seventy calls on each one though. Ah, here's two that were recorded about that time ago."

Nadir thanked her as he was handed the tapes, then sighed as she left. This was going to take a long time.


	28. The Recording

**AN: sorry. Oh and Faust showed in the San Francisco Opera. Really. I planned on writing this chapter at about that time but yeah we see how that turned out. Anyway here it is. **

The studio that Erik and Christine were renting was small and cheap, but the sound effects and general clarity of their music was much nicer than their recording done at home. Christine had been practicing her piano more and in every song of course, Erik played his violin. Their more classical instruments and thoughtful lyrics went against the norm of the popular station that they were broadcasted on somewhat, but the fast paced melody and beat made it acceptable. Every other day, Christine would go to work as a waitress, (even though she had income otherwise) and Erik would stay home writing music and designing an album cover. Then they'd take a taxi to the studio the next day, usually spending some of their salary on a nice dinner of buying digital equipment to perfect their music. In Erik's mind, the only way life could be better was if Christine was his wife. Yes, he was already thinking that far ahead. And the only way life could be better for her was if she had her childhood fantasy of living by the sea. And by the way their salary was increasing, it seemed that this could all be possible one day. But of course, all good things come to an end.

_Sorry Erik. He pays me and you should have been honest, _thought Nadir as he packaged the record of Erik's call at the brothel, addressing it to Chagny. When he had dropped it off at the post office, he thought that if he were of the Christian faith, he'd feel like Judas right now. Picking up his cell, he dialed Chagny's number.

"I found it. It's being mailed to you."

Raoul exhaled in relief. _"Thank you so much sir"_

"Yes. Have you heard them on the radio? Your ex—I mean, Christine, is quite talented."

"_She is"_, said Raoul proudly. He might have said the same about Erik if he wasn't imagining crushing that bony body like the soda can in his fist.

"I'm expecting my money by Friday", said Nadir before hanging up.

When Christine came home from Provinos, she found Erik pacing, appearing lost in thought.

"Did I ever tell you that I lived here before?", he murmured, eyes downcast. Raising her brows, Christine replied in the negative.

"Well, I did.", he said. "With my mother. She left me in that closet for a day."

At this, Erik pointed at the door to a small closet in a corner. Christine looked at it, then back to him with deep pity.

"I'm sorry."

"When you're here, I forget about what happened here before. But when you're gone…"he trailed off, sinking into an armchair and resting his head on his hands. "It all comes back."

"I can't believe you could stand to be here so long without saying something", Christine wondered aloud as she approached him. He flinched a little, a natural reaction still, as she put her hands on his shoulders from behind the chair. "I didn't want you to feel bad"

When Christine absentmindedly began massaging his neck and shoulders, he closed his eyes in a relaxed sigh. Suddenly, a great idea came to her mind. "I got fifty dollars worth of tips tonight. How about we get your mind off things, lets say at the Opera?"

This lifted Erik's spirits instantly.

"Really? We have the money?"

"Mmhm. And guess what's showing in an hour tonight?"

He turned around, eyes brighter than usual.

"What?"

"_Faust"_, Christine said, smiling. Both of them had always wanted to see it, the opera about an old man who sells his soul to the Devil.

"We'd better hurry then", Erik said, jumping up to find the nicest clothes he had—which still, wasn't much. Christine did the same, and they came out of separate rooms at almost the same time—she in an ivory, short sleeved dress with a satin bow around the middle, and he in pressed black pants and a white dress shirt. (For once his hair was combed, which was highly amusing to Christine).

"You look lovely", he said, sweeping his gaze over her a second. She smiled as he put on his fedora.

"Thanks. You look nice too."

"Off we go?", he teased, holding out his arm dramatically, making her laugh a little.

"Indeed, off we go."

They took a cab to the opera, where they were glad for dressing nicely. It was an opening night, and most people had on even more formal attire. Also, it was very crowded. After patiently waiting in line (something Erik wasn't very accustomed to) they finally got in.

"I've been saving up for this…so we have the best seats in the house besides like, the mayor or a celebrity.", Christine whispered. Erik followed her to their seats, finding that they did, indeed have a fantastic view. As the lights dimmed, Erik put an arm around Christine, smiling to himself. The acting, scenery and music was exceptional, soon everyone became lost in it. More once, Christine felt like crying, but held back. This date was by far, the best they'd ever had.

At last it had come in the mail—the recorder. Upon seeing the box, Raoul immediately tore open, then held the precious evidence in two hands. Licking his lips anxiously, he pressed "PLAY" on the device and listened eagerly.

"_My friend's having a bachelor party…"_

"_Oh, the wilder and more exotic the better…"_

"_Oh, I have a girl…"_

"_Chagny Estate…"_

"Oh oh oh sweet revenge…", Raoul chuckled to himself, grabbing his car keys, the recording safely in hand.


	29. Exposed

**AN: I really need to stop updating practically once a year like this….this chapter should be exciting though! Whoever still cares to read my story, I send virtual glomps to you. (glomp=huge suffocating hugs)**

**Chapter 29**

While Erik was looking at their ratings online and was generally just fooling around on Christine's laptop, the doorbell rang. Christine got up to answer it, very curious as to who was ringing this late at night. When she opened the door, she immediately felt hot blood rise to her cheeks in anger.

"What do you want, Raoul?"

For once he didn't seem apologetic or pleading. He only held up a black device that looked like some sort of recorder and he grinned in triumph, almost smugly.

"Just listen to this…"

Christine went from red to white—she never could have predicted what she heard right then. It was definitely Erik's voice, and he was….

"He set me up to get to you", said Raoul simply "I eventually tracked down this tape at a brothel. There's no one else who would want to make it look like I cheated. And plus, after dating me so long, shouldn't you have been a bit skeptical of the situation too?"

All Christine could do was swallow and stare at the recorder. She absolutely couldn't believe it…but it was true. Shakily, but with growing outrage in her tone, she called, "ERIK! Get in here!"

Raoul leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, quite pleased with himself as he heard the padding of bare feet on the hardwood. Then, Erik came into view, appearing rather burnt out, until he saw the young man and the look on Christine's face.

"What's going on?", he asked hesitantly, as if he'd never seen this enemy before. The blonde snorted and replayed the tape, to Erik's horror. Christine gazed at him with mixed emotions—disbelief, rage, disappointment, betrayal.

_How did he…._

It was no use denying it and hopeless to apologize. She could never forgive him. Now it was over—Raoul's threat, initially seeming powerless, had come true.

_She hates me…, _thought Erik in despair. Matters only got worse when Raoul spoke.

"You know, he probably stole your dog too just to give it back and look like a hero…"

That was it. Erik snapped. Making a running start lunge, he attacked the boy, knocking him to the floor. Raoul threw punches everywhere his fists could reach and Erik struggled to grab his throat. Neither of them could hear Christine screaming at them, and they continued madly trying to kill each other. Though covered in what would soon be black and blue, Erik finally pinned his rival down with a deadly grip on his neck. For a while, Raoul kept fighting the man strangling him, but as he ran out of oxygen, slowly he grew more and more limp. As Raoul weakly choked for air, all Erik could think of was the animalistic rage coursing through him screaming "KILL."

But just before life left Raoul's grey eyes, someone else's screams broke into Erik's mind.

Just as quickly as he attacked, he released and jumped back as if shocked by a charge, looking at his hands, which almost made him a murderer. All was silent except for Raoul's panting for air and finally, Christine said, without looking at Erik, "Get out."

She didn't even need to say it that one time. He stumbled to the door and began running. With no direction in mind, not even to his former home, Erik raced his own thoughts until he seemed to lose time and the road in a senseless alternate universe where Christine hated him. He only stopped when he couldn't take anymore and just collapsed in a pathetic heap somewhere far away from people.

A few hours later, when he had the energy to, Erik pulled himself up, finding that he had actually managed to land in a shadowy redwood forest. How he ran so far or got there, he had no idea. But this was of little importance. All he had ever really cared about was Christine, and he had lost her forever because of his own mistake.

Christine leaned over Raoul, very lightly holding a bag of ice to his damaged neck. When he had finally stopped heaving for air, he attempted to say something but it only came out in an unintelligible rasp.

"No, no don't speak. It'll only hurt you more", she warned him gently, looking at him with pity. He gazed back sadly and reached out a hand to her face, lightly stroking her cheek. Smiling weakly, she took his other hand, only to have him wince in pain and choke. Three of his fingers were twisted unnaturally, most likely broken.

"Oh God…okay I'm going to drive you to the hospital. Can you stand?"

He nodded, and with her help, he staggered to his feet. Step by step, they made it to Raoul's car, then drove off to Briarwood Hospital. Once his hand was in a cast and he was laying in a white cot that somehow passed as a bed, Raoul wanted nothing more than to speak. Eventually, Christine brought him a notepad and with his left hand, he clumsily scribbled, "_I still love you"_

She sighed and said, "I love you too—but for obvious reasons, I really need a break from relationships. I'll just have some alone time to think and then maybe…"  
He nodded in understanding but looked a little disappointed. Christine's eyes drifted to the finger-shaped bruises on his throat and she shuddered. Had Erik killed before? Had she been in love with a murderer? Or just a psycho bent on having her to himself?

Raoul only had to stay in the hospital a few more hours before the doctor suggested that he simply not speak for two weeks and take liquids that would help heal the inside of his throat. So finally, the two were alone in their own separate homes, wounded physically and emotionally.

Erik didn't know how long he wandered aimlessly through the forest before he finally reached a road. As he walked, trudging like an undead corpse might move, he just replayed what had happened over and over in his mind. The labyrinth of redwoods didn't help to ease t he overwhelming feeling that was slowly eating away at him like a disease. Before, his life was about music and survival. Just those things. Then, his life permanently became centered on Christine.

_I know that was not an illusion of a real feeling or simply a madman's twisted obsession…I did become obsessed, yes, but it was not just a hunt to own her like a prize. I respect her, I care for her needs and wants, I want her to be happy…I __love __her. And for a while, she seemed to love me back. But now she's gone. I shouldn't even attempt to win her back. Since I love her, I will let her go._


	30. God

**AN: Thanks readers! Oh, remember Zach? That dude Raoul works with? He's in here, by the way, in case you forgot about him.**

**Chapter 30**

_I can't stand to have his stuff here…and I should probably give it back anyway, _thought Christine, gathering Erik's clothes, his violin, and other items of his, placing them in a large black garbage bag. Once she had finished this, she walked all the way to his warehouse. Not wishing to see him, she quickly tossed the bag through the door of the first floor and left as soon as she came. Then she sadly stared at her own apartment with a sigh. After much consideration to money and mental stress, Christine began looking up real estate.

"Well you're not an emotional wreck anymore but now you're physically screwed up", Zack greeted Raoul with a slap on the back, making him hiss in pain. Being stubborn and determined, he had shown up at work despite his casted hand and ruined voice.

"Woah…what's on your neck? Did someone try to strangle you?", asked Zack, eyeing the many colored marks on Raoul's throat. He nodded grimly, grabbing a nearby notepad.

_I got even with the bastard though._

"You can't talk? Oh my God…tell me what happened! Was it him? Erik or whatever his name was?", Zach asked in shock. Again, Raoul nodded and wrote:

_I came with proof that he set me up. Christine believed me. He just went for my throat. I was trying to beat the hell out of him—which I think I might have. I took boxing for a while. But he was a total psycho. I'm sure he would eventually turn on Christine if I hadn't stepped in._

"Wow…what a story", the other man said, but then looked puzzled. "What stopped him from killing you?". Raoul averted his eyes and gingerly rubbed his neck before writing again.

_Christine was screaming for him to stop. I almost blacked out, then I could suddenly breathe again and he was gone. I can't remember what happened in between._

"Ah. Well he didn't murder you so I guess some part of him is human."

Raoul tried to snort sarcastically but ended up coughing painfully. Zach asked, "Are you going to press charges?"

_No. I'm happy with Christine hating him. Plus, I might be charged with something too because I wasn't just defending myself._

"Oh, that's reasonable. Personally, I'd charge him for attempted murder among a few other things, but whatever", Zack shrugged in mock casualty. Raoul just ignored him, silently continuing on work.

_Um…hello there, God? You do exist after all, don't you? You have a funny sense of humor, I gotta hand it to you. I mean, making my life Hell on earth and then suddenly giving me heaven and then taking it away? SO FUNNY, MAN! Ok, ok, she's gone because of me. My stupidity. My mistake. But how else was I supposed to get close to her? I couldn't exactly walk up and say "Hi, my name is Erik. I'm homeless and half my face looks like it's been through a meat grinder! Want to go out sometime?". Yeah, I don't think so, God. Maybe I shouldn't have lied…but he was in the way! How was I supposed to compete with that? I think I'm not supposed to give you excuses. I heard some fanatic on the street corner preaching that. But seeing as I've denied your existence all my life, I don't really know how I'm supposed to talk to you. So anyway, you're God, you know what's going on in my head, you know that I really do love her. I don't have to prove that to you. And I guess I'm supposed to leave her alone. But it's only been a week and I can't compose, I have to force myself to eat, I can't think about anything except how sorry I am and how I want her back. I don't even have to be…WITH her like that anymore. I could just be her freaky friend again. What do I do, God? And are you a man or a woman? Or an it? They say "Father", but that seems a bit sexist to me….anyway, anyway…should I just leave her alone? Or should I go up and apologize? Should I make a great speech, or make it up as I go along? WHAT DO I DO? You know, the reason not everyone believes in you probably has something to do with the fact that you don't talk. Or do magic tricks anymore. Like that Red Sea thing I heard about somewhere. I don't think I've ever picked up a Bible. Oh well. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! Make Christine not hate me!_

Erik was silently ranting this from outside a cathedral. It was Thursday, so there was hardly any crowd there. This was the same Cathedral which Christine went to every Sunday. If she believed in this, it must be true. After waiting and thinking more, Erik stood with a sigh. He took a few steps away from the massive church, and glanced back once. Nadir Khan was catching up to him.

"Erik!", he called.

_Oh what does he want…._

Erik stood there, letting the Persian man reach him. Khan collected himself, and then said, "Christine told Meg who told me what happened. I'm very sorry, Erik."

"Thanks…"

"But what the hell were you thinking?"

Erik's mismatched eyes widened in momentary shock, and he growled, "It's my business what I do."

"Yeah, and what you did made Christine cry to my girlfriend on the phone for almost two hours!"

Cursing inside, Erik thought, _That's twice now…dammit. _He turned away to go home so he could curl up and die, but Nadir wasn't having it.

"I think you know what you did was wrong, and I am almost certain you want her back, right?"

Reluctantly, Erik nodded, but said nothing. Nadir's jade eyes softened, and he exhaled slowly, thinking to himself, _It's probably not too great that he doesn't know that I caused all of this, but she needed to know. If I told him that I helped Raoul, he would try to kill me, out here in public, and be arrested, and never see Christine again. It's better this way. I'm glad I made sure Raoul would never tell that he hired me to find the proof._

"I will go to her with you and you will apologize, okay, _Mr. Noir?_" said Nadir, slyly reminding Erik of the fact that he was a legal living person because of the detective's help. Erik looked around, none too pleased, but finally nodded again, starting to walk back in the direction of Christine's home. Nadir followed, and both were silent the whole way.

When they reached the condominium, Nadir waved Erik on, implying that he would wait outside. Erik rolled his eyes and took in a deep breath, opening the door with a key Christine had given him a few months before. His heart pounded with guilt and fear as he ascended to her level.

_You can do this, just apologize¸ it can't be too bad. _, he thought, just as he reached her door. A shaking hand quickly rang the bell, and he heard footsteps and barking. But the barking didn't sound like Thunder's. It was a yappy Chihuahua bark. The door swung open abruptly and Erik stepped back when he saw a stranger's face. It was an old lady in a pink bathrobe with a cranky expression on her wrinkled face.

"What do you want?", she demanded in a gravelly smoker's voice.

"Um…where is Christine?"

The crone squinted her foggy eyes. "Who?"

"Christine Daae. She lives here. You know, the singer?"

A look of realization passed the woman's face and she shook her head. "Not anymore. I bought this pace from her."

Erik's heart almost stopped. She had moved? So soon?

"Do you have any idea where she went?", he asked hopefully.

"How would I know? Sorry boy, I can't help you."

With that, the old woman shut the door in his face, leaving him rather confused and hurt. From there, he wandered back to his rugged warehouse, his home. He barely noticed Nadir following him there as well. At the sight of his things tossed in a garbage bag on the first floor, Erik broke down.


	31. Breaking In

Chapter 31 (I think)

"Like most groups do, the two singers Christine Daae and Erik Noir have separated. Yes, so soon. Now what San Francisco wants to know is why they broke up, and where is Erik now?"

Christine turned the channel quickly, unable to take hearing about it her ex. Her ex…it was such a blunt term. Apparently, Raoul was happy to listen to something else as well.

"Thanks again for letting me stay here while I find a house", she said for about the fifth time that day, leaning on his leather couch. Within a few hours, all of her furniture and things were in a personal storage area, waiting to be moved to a new home.

Raoul rolled his eyes and barely managed to croak, "No problem" while thinking, If it were up to me, if only everything worked out without HIM getting involved, you would be living here permanently with a ring on your finger.

Christine sighed disapprovingly. "You shouldn't talk…"

Grabbing the notepad and pen he had been carrying around for almost a week, Raoul began writing.

You could live here forever if you wanted to.

"You're too generous", she said, smiling. He added more.

Well, I didn't plan on doing it this way—if Erik hadn't interfered, it would have been perfect, but…

Turning over a clean sheet and fumbling in his pocket for something, Raoul continued to write as Christine held her breath. Somehow, she knew what it was before he wrote it, and stranger yet, she wasn't as excited as she had been expecting she would be for years.

Will you marry me?

He showed her the ring that he had been carrying around since he first planned on proposing. Of course, it was beautiful. When she didn't answer right away, he wrote more.

I know you said you needed time, but I thought it was just as good a time to ask as any, since you're about to move and all.

"Um…I'll think about it", she stammered, finally able to speak (unlike him). He sighed. She was always 'thinking about it'. But he could wait.

"I've known you for years and I really do love you…it's just a…a big decision. And a lot has happened lately."

There's trust…there's friendship…but no excitement. He can take me anywhere and amuse me but he himself is so predictable. That's supposed to be a good thing. But it really isn't, at least to me. Oh, what am I thinking? My father would have been so proud of such a son-in-law. He's stable, wealthy, considerate, definitely loves me…Oh no. As cliché as it is…no passion. I mean, of course he's attractive but I've grown up thinking of him as a brother or a friend. The most I really want to do is hug him. Like a best friend who happens to want to marry me.

Another point came to mind rudely.

Who would you go to then, hm? Oh, right, the man who pretty much stalked you and almost killed Raoul, not to mention RUINED your relationship to get to you. And he was sooo stable, with a fake identity and living in a warehouse his whole life! His mind wasn't too stable either, you know. He was abused. And other than you, he doesn't even have a single friend. You had to teach him social skills. And it didn't take much for him to 'snap' on Raoul. Eventually, he might hurt you. That isn't love, that's obsession.

As Raoul busied himself with keeping away from Thunder, who insisted on tormenting him as much as possible, Christine went to the guest bedroom and took a much needed nap.

Erik was going to search madly across town for Christine, but just before he started, he thought of the first place she'd go.

Of COURSE. Raoul, he thought grimly, unable to stop the sickening image of them together from invading his brain. Sighing, he began walking the long way towards Chagny Estate.

Nadir and Meg saw the news together—Erik was gone. Disappeared. There was a small man-hunt out for him.

"Why would he leave?", Meg asked in naive disbelief. She hadn't called Christine in a day—was that so much? Nadir averted his eyes, feeling guilty.

"I don't know."

Raoul must have showed her the recording.

Reaching for her phone, Meg dialed Christine's cell phone, Nadir observing nervously.

"Christine! What happened? Where's Erik?"

Khan couldn't hear the girl's response, but Meg's expression grew more and more shocked over a minute or two. "Oh my God! Is Raoul ok?", she gasped, and Nadir suppressed a groan. And of course, Erik must have tried to kill him. Why am I not surprised…

As the two continued to listen, Meg responded again, shocked.

"Why didn't you say yes, you fool? You've loved him for years, and after all he really didn't cheat. He was set up. Really? Wait, what? No, no, NO, after all that sneaky bastard did, you still—Oh Christine. Fine…ok, bye. Call me back."

Meg explained everything to her boyfriend, who was almost as surprised as she was. Apparently, Christine still had feelings for Erik even though most of these were of terror. Nadir's guilt let off a bit once he knew that poor man still had a chance.

Finally! I made it. Ugh, this is sick to have a house this big while people—like me—live in warehouses, or worse, on the street. I'm definitely not coming to the front door. If he answers, it might be with a shotgun. And if she does, he'll hear and come anyway.

Carefully, Erik circled the mansion to the back, where he tried to decide which window he was to climb through. Finally, he just found that all of them were too high up, but there was a basement door (most likely locked) that he could get to. But not without being watched, and certainly not without keys. Eyes scanning the backyard from behind some trimmed bushes, he spotted a gardener.

Aha….

His hand reached down to a conveniently placed rock and grasped it firmly. In a sudden burst of energy, he flew through the bushes out into running sprinklers, charging at the employee. Before the gardener turned around, Erik smashed the rock on his head, hard enough to knock him out. It wasn't a terribly huge rock, and Erik wasn't a terribly strong man, so he was pretty certain all it did was knock him out.

Yes, still breathing. Ok, keys…where are you?

He dragged the man into the shade and then searched his pockets. At last, he found a ring of keys, at least twenty. Erik muttered to himself as he trudged to the back door with the jangling metal. There, he went through a slow, boring process of trying to find one that fit the lock and not succeeding until about fifteen keys later. The door swung open.

Inside was a massive cellar, and there was a ladder leaning against the wall.

Use the ladder to get to a window that may or may not be locked (and a key won't solve that) or risk running into someone by going through the house?

Erik contemplated this a while and eventually decided. He went to the stairs. Since it was a fairly new house which Raoul owned (and therefore it had to be perfect in every way), the steps didn't squeak as he walked up. And since he weighed about 90 pounds, his footsteps weren't heavy enough to make much noise. When he reached the door upstairs, he listened. He heard a vacuum running from a separate room. It was probably a maid. Wrapping a bony hand around the knob, he twisted it slowly, opening the door just a little, and slipped through the small space into a kitchen. The vacuum sounded like it was running to the left of him, so he turned to the right, into a dining room. He creeped around the corner of the dining room, looking out into the foyer, where a marble staircase spiraled up to a few rooms upstairs, visible through silver railing. The maid was in the living room, and by the way she was facing, she'd be able to see him move from the dining room to the stairs. Erik waited for what seemed like eternity before she finally turned her back, and he flew like a shadow to the staircase, which he climbed as quickly as possible. When he arrived upstairs, trying to steady his breath, all the bedroom doors were closed. A grandfather clock chimed twelve.

They're probably out at lunch….he thought, feeling a little more relieved. I'll just find her room then.

Each room he passed, he carefully opened the door after listening for any sign of life inside. All the rooms were quite grand, but empty of luggage or any sign of Christine living it it. That is, until he reached the furthest door from the stairs. Inside was a lavender room, furnished with silver. The comforters on the queen-sized bed were also purple and grey, and laying next to the silk pillows were a suitcase and a backpack. On the dresser, a hairbrush and a white iPod lay. And the most revealing feature—on the plush rug, curled up soundly, was the huge German Shepherd mix.

Taking soft steps, Erik walked to the dresser and picked up the iPod.

Might as well amuse myself while I wait.

Plugging in the earphones, he flipped through her music library. There were oldies, calming New Age stuff, and some classical music. When he reached a very familiar song, with his own voice in it, his jaw dropped a little. She kept his songs?

Maybe she just hasn't gotten rid of them yet, he thought sadly, turning to another song. That one happened to be "Every Breath You Take", by the Police, which only made him feel more like a depressed stalker. He switched off the music and explored the games she had on the device, spending the next thirty minutes playing mindless games like "Angry Birds".

Then, over the cries of the game, he heard a low humming, like a garage door opening. He put the iPod down. Another minute later, unintelligible talking downstairs was heard, then footsteps coming upstairs. With every step, Erik's heart pounded faster. He froze when the door opened. So did Christine.

Erik expected this scenario: She'd scream "What the hell are you doing here?", Raoul would come to her rescue, and his skinny body would be full of bullets before he could even take a breath.

Instead, she gasped, still unmoving. Erik raised a finger over his lips and whispered.

"I just want to talk."

Moving towards him, Christine's eyes slanted in suspicion.

"And you decided to wait in my room instead of coming to the front door like a normal person?"

"Chagny would kill me."

"How did you know I was even here, let alone how did you get IN?", she hissed. He sighed.

"Where else would you go? And um…I kind of stole keys from the gardener…anyway, I had to come, I just had to."

"For what?", she scoffed. Gaze sinking to the floor, Erik tried to keep calm enough to say what was on his mind.

"I wanted to apologize for everything I did. Setting up Raoul, attacking him, your dog…"

"You actually stole Thunder?", she cut him off in outrage.

"I didn't know of any other way to let you know I existed! What was I supposed to do, just go up to you and say, 'Hello, I'm Erik, a homeless, deformed freak, and by the way, I think you have the most beautiful voice and face I've ever seen. No need to be terrified of me or anything.'", he snapped. He took a beat before adding, "I also wanted to impress you. I took real good care of Thunder—he ate more than I did. But I am sorry."

Closing her eyes and sighing, Christine said, "Well, I forgive you. There. Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes…but I really wish you would continue singing…with me, that is. I hardly expect you to take me back or anything, but please allow me the privilege of working with you", he said humbly with pleading eyes. "We made incredible music…"

Logically, their salaries combined would support her a lot better than a single salary, and it would keep Erik off the streets. But could she stand to be around him after that?

"Erik…today Raoul proposed", she sighed. Erik's heart sank like a rock.

Why did bad things always happen to him? "But I haven't answered yet", she added. Hope raised again. "But if I were to say yes, I doubt he'd appreciate me working with a man who almost killed him. And if I say no…well, I don't really know." "Say no, then", Erik murmured quietly, his eyes closing for a moment. "Do you really love him, Christine? Enough to marry him?"

She paused. "I do love him…"

He groaned before she finished.

"But I don't want to marry him—when I just think about him, not how outwardly perfect it would be. I can't imagine marrying anyone, really."

Aside from that last bit, everything brightened in Erik's eyes. He stood, stepping closer to her.

"Really?"

She nodded. "I've thought about it long enough. I'm saying no. I'll feel really bad for him though. He is still one of my best friends."

"So, you'll sing with me again?"

She nodded and held out her hand for him to shake, which of course, he looked at quizzically. "Yes. Business partners and friends…shake on it."

"Oh, right."

They shook hands and smiled. Erik glanced around, his smile starting to fade as he realized something.

"Raoul's home. I can't get out without him seeing me. And what are you going to tell him?"

Christine's expression went blank. "Um…I have no idea."


	32. THE END

**AN: Wow. I'm so happy this story is finally ending. After like three years. I hope you all like it. Oh, and btw, there's a bit more language than has been in the rest of the story. **

**THE NOT SO EPICLY AMAZING FINALE OF MY ONLY COMPLETED MULTICHAPTER STORY, "THE VOICE AND THE VIOLIN"**

"Ok, I'll go talk to him downstairs…"

"And what am I supposed to do, exactly?"

"Um….Try to sneak around us, leave the same way you came in", Christine said unsurely, ending it more as a question than a statement. Erik looked up, thinking about how that would work.

"Can you try to keep him on the other side of the house?"

She nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"And uh…what about the maid?", he asked, lowering his voice since he heard a thump downstairs. Her eyes darted towards the door and they heard another two thumps, louder, like someone coming up the stairs.

"Oh my God, hide!"

Erik was good at this. He leapt to the walk in closet, which was unfortunately very empty, but he managed to hide in a far corner behind a few coats, in case anyone glanced inside. His feet were still visible, so he moved a box in front of his knees, sliding it as quietly as possible. At about this time, the footsteps stopped. Erik could sense another being in the room before he heard anyone speak.

"Christine? Who were you talking to?", Raoul asked in a half concerned, half suspicious tone.

"Nobody, I just had the T.V on…"

"But I heard you talking", he replied bluntly.

Christine coughed a little. "It was a dumb reality show so I was talking to the T.V. You know, like you yell at football games on ESPN."

Raoul was silent for a moment before speaking again. "Ok. I just wanted to ask…have you thought it through?"

Feeling her blood immediately rush through her in discomfort, she dodged the question. "Thought what through? That I want to start singing again? Yeah, I am…it's paid off."

"No, I mean…have you thought about me?" he said quietly.

Behind the coats, Erik sniggered. _So vulnerable and weak you are, Chagny. And I know what she's going to say!_

After this thought, he worried for a moment. _What if she just told me that, but at seeing him changed her mind? I mean, it's not exactly pick one to marry, all I've gotten is her friendship back. She might just say yes and decide to stay in this awkward friend stage forever. I can see it now…the wedding would be over the top and ridiculous, like him, and she might invite me. I don't know if I could even bear to go. And then, the honeymoon, where I'm left here with that awful image in my head of what they're doing. And then, who knows, maybe they'll have little spoiled rich kids immediately, and she'd ask me to babysit. If he allowed her to ask me, anyway. And I'd hardly ever see her even on a friendly and professional basis because oh yeah, I tried to strangle her husband!_

"Raoul…I love you."

_I KNEW IT! _Erik thought in outrage, having to keep himself from making any sound of grief. But his mood quickly flipped yet again.

"But not in the way that you say you love me", Christine mumbled. The way she said this didn't come out the way she thought it would: the words were strained, like she didn't mean it, though she did. It was incredibly hard to do this. She had known Raoul most of her life, even if they had been apart for years. Their relationship was very easy, not stressful, very luxurious. The biggest fight they ever had was what to do on a Saturday night. That's why it almost hurt to force herself to reject him.

Raoul had never been one to cry. Not that he was heartless or insensitive, he just reacted differently. The last time he shed a tear was when he was ten and his purebred husky died. But at this, his eyes started to sting.

"Where is this coming from? I mean…you've known me forever...you're saying everything that happened over the years was a lie. You never felt the same. For two years. And you're JUST now telling me after I worked up the guts to PROPOSE."

Erik was covering his mouth with both hands, eyes squinted shut as he held in his laughter. This was so perfect.

Christine, however, was close to tears herself. At first, she had felt at least a little justified in rejecting him, but now she just felt like the biggest coldhearted bitch, even though she did feel the same for most of the relationship.

"I did, I swear. It just…I don't know, I just haven't felt the same for a while."

"Since you met Erik", Raoul snapped.

"No, no, before him. I promise, it has nothing to do with him!"

He laughed, a bitter, unnatural laugh, while crying. His expression twisted in a pained way Christine had never seen before. She couldn't believe she had been afraid that he'd just beg her to stay.

"How am I supposed to believe that? He's ruined everything! I was going to propose before and he sends hookers to my house! And you actually believed that I was cheating! He steals your dog and pretends to have rescued it! And when I find out and tell you the truth, he tried to KILL ME. Seriously, Christine, he doesn't even have a house, or a car, and he wears a _fucking mask_! Who does that? Who trusts a shady freak like that! You might as well just go down a dark alley with a guy with a sign taped to his forehead that says 'I'm a convicted rapist'! "

For once, Erik really didn't care what words were said about him. He knew what he did, and apparently, she'd forgiven him. That's all that really mattered. And better yet, this meant Raoul was in _pain. _Raw, human pain that he probably had never felt before.

_Yes, I think it's your turn. You may not have ever wronged her like I did, you may have a lot more to offer, you may actually be a hell of a lot better for her. But she said no, and you deserve this. _

"Well, Raoul, I guess I do trust a shady freak like that then."

Raoul stopped in his rant a moment. "Wait, you agreed with me just this morning. You moved out of your apartment because of him. What happened between then and now, Christine?"

_Shit. _Erik thought. _He's figured it out. _

"Nothing, I just have been thinking…"

"Ha, sure you have. Did you call him?"

"No!"

So conveniently, Erik's nose started to itch and tingle, a prelude to a massive sneeze coming on.

_No, no, no! Not now! _

He tried to hold his breath, he tried to cover it up. But it came out sharply anyway, a small sound in reality, but deafening to one who wants to remain hidden.

Raoul's head jerked towards the closet. "What was that?"

Christine's eyes widened and she tried to compose herself. Tell the truth? Lie and pretend she didn't know he was there? Try to help Erik escape? Right now all she could manage to do was stand there like a useless statue.

Raoul took a step towards the partially open closet door. Then another. Erik's heart tried to burst out of his chest. And when Raoul jerked open the door, he burst out instead.

"YOU BASTARD!", Raoul screamed, chasing after him, thundering down the stairs. Christine ran after him and almost tripped trying to catch up. The three madly chased each other through hallways and doors, a confused Erik leading the way in a zigzag, too terrified to focus on finding a way out. Christine's cries were useless, even when she finally grabbed hold of Raoul's shoulder.

"Just let him go, he didn't do anything!"

He ignored her and kept screaming at Erik¸ who was now trying to evade Raoul by standing on the other side of the dining table. "You broke into MY house, screwed with MY girlfriend, and ruined MY life! You're gonna die!"

Erik wasn't going to waste his breath on firing back, he just needed a way to get the hell out of there. And currently, the men were frustratedly pacing back and forth on either side of the table, unsure how to catch or avoid the other. Christine was pulling at Raoul, which was a good distraction. Erik took advantage when Raoul turned around to make Christine let go, jumping over the table and dashing towards the basement door. A thud from upstairs made him jerk about halfway down, making his foot suddenly slide out from under him. Erik yelped and tumbled down the rest of the flight, landing on his back. Ignoring the pain, he forced himself to leap to his feet (thankfully, nothing was broken) and he bolted out the basement door.

_Oh God, no car, no safe place…._he thought, dashing straight for a thicket. Some thorns clawed at him as he pushed his way through the bushes, going deep in the woods enough to hide. He was finally safe and concealed just before Raoul and Christine stumbled outside.

"Where did you go, you little prick?", the panting, pissed off blonde yelled around him.

_Somewhere you can't find me…._

"Just leave it alone, Raoul. He's gone. I'm going to call Meg to pick me up", Christine sighed, holding her head in exhaustion.

"Yeah, that's a good idea", Raoul spat bitterly. "Just bail on me."

"You don't want me around anyway."

He stammered then just snapped, "No, I don't. Not right now." At this, he stormed back into the house, and Christine pulled out her phone, looking around as she did.

_Do you want me to come out? _Erik thought, unsure.

"Erik?", Christine called quietly. His hopes lifted. He wouldn't be stuck out here all night after all.

"I'm here"

She looked towards the woods. "Stay there until Meg comes, ok?"

"Ok."

Thankfully, Meg showed up pretty quickly. Once Christine climbed into the Jeep, Erik made a beeline for it, jumping into the backseat.

"What's going on?", Meg asked desperately as she backed out. Poor Meg, always left in the dark. Christine sighed.

"It's a long story…"

Eventually, Meg made Christine tell her everything. Erik just closed his eyes and leaned back, happy that he was still breathing. Meg, of course, asked a lot of questions, and all were answered.

"You know what; you two can just stay with me and Nadir until you get a bigger apartment. Our condo is pretty big."

Erik and Christine thanked her profusely, and she just smiled and acted like it was no big deal. Then, the moving in process began, which took a few hours. But by dinnertime, Christine's stuff and Erik's precious few possessions were moved in. Erik, of course, insisted Christine take the guest room.

After taking a much needed shower and getting fresh clothes, Erik opened the door only to find Christine standing there.

"Sorry I took so long, it's just I haven't had a decent shower since I left your apartment—oh, sorry, shouldn't be talking about that either. Sorry. And sorry for saying sorry so much! Crap…I'm sor—"

Before Erik knew what hit him, Christine's mouth was pressed against his. With him standing there rigidly, eyes open in disbelief; it was very much like the first time they kissed, only more desperate. Just as he started to melt into the fire, she pulled away, leaving him in shock.

"Christine…what…huh…"

He wanted to ask her a coherent question, "Why did you do that" but it wouldn't come out. She just smiled and leaned in close again, (for another kiss he hoped) but just held him.

"I love you", she murmured, hiding her face in his shoulder.

_She loves me…..why? I did nothing to deserve this. _he asked himself, completely confused but completely happy. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was Christine—Christine singing so sadly the first time he saw her, Christine hugging him the first time he spoke to her, Christine watching movies with him on her couch and falling asleep with him, Christine tenderly touching his face in acceptance once she found out the truth, Christine laughing as he chased her around her apartment, trying to steal a kiss…every fleeting memory of her smile, her voice, her eyes, her touch, all blended together in an impossible realization that something so perfect had happened to him, and she was his now, once more.

"I love you too."

_This time, no lies, no tricks, no jealousy. I will not ruin this again. _

She held onto him a few more moments before letting her arms fall to the sides. A small smile graced her lips.

"By the way, we're sharing the guest room."

**Epilogue: Can't you guess? They have a nice awkward relationship sharing the apartment with Meg and Nadir, take back their fame and sing until they get enough money to get Christine's lovely little house by the sea. By this time, Raoul is back to befriending Christine on a distant, yet close friendship level. He and Erik will forever hate each other. Also, as you can guess, since every story goes, there is a wedding. In my mind it would be something creative, like having it on the San Francisco Opera stage (no, I'm not sure they'd let you do that, but whatever…) and all red, black, and white themed. Hm…what else….well, if you're the kid lover, I guess you can put in a few little monsters, but I wouldn't. Oh, and Meg and Nadir get married as well, all tacky Vegas style. Anyway, this is kind of sad now. I don't know why, I'm not getting paid for this. But it's been three years. I bid you all farewell, and I hope to satisfy you in more of my writings. If anyone gets too sad about this ending, I can do a sequel, but I'll need lots of ideas. Maybe I'll just put details on this massive paragraph above. I LOVE YOU ALL!**


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